


Latter Day Sinner

by canadianhannah



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Bottom Gerard Way, Break Up, Disabled Character, Dom Frank Iero, Family Member Death, Father Way, Fingering, Large age gap, Loss of Trust, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Older Man/Younger Man, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Physical Disability, Priest Gerard Way, Priest Kink, Priests, Public Sex, Punk Frank Iero, Reference to war, Rejection, Revenge Era Frank Iero, Sub Gerard Way, Tags May Change, Top Frank Iero, catholic gerard way, handjobs, rebel frank iero
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:17:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 62,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6934003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadianhannah/pseuds/canadianhannah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Frank breaks his local church's window, he finds himself in-debited to the new presiding pastor. As the two become closer, both men have to face up to faith, love, desire, and the consequences of breaking the rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Frank hadn’t meant to break the window. That isn’t to say that he hadn’t gone out that evening looking for trouble, or even that he hadn’t meant to break any window. He just never meant to break that window in particular. When he’d thrown the (admittedly, probably oversized) brick, he’d been aiming for the abandoned pen factory. Unfortunately for him, his arm was a little better than he’d thought, and he watched, almost as if in slow motion, as the object soared through the air and crashed through the church’s stained glass window. It had once been adorned with the illuminating image of Jesus with a lamb cradled in his arms. It was an image he knew well from his childhood, when his parents still had enough power to force him into church. He remembered the way the sun would crawl through the blue haze early on Sunday mornings, and the brilliant way the reds and blues would shine onto his own pale skin, like a summertime kaleidoscope. Until the moment he heard the deafening crash, he had almost forgotten the sight.   
He wondered vaguely if it was considered a sin to break a church window. He assumed it must be – the way the Lord’s face was caved in, like he’d been struck with a divine fist, was sure to be blasphemous.   
After the crash, three things registered in Frank’s mind all at once. The first, was the sound of his friends running away, making noises that varied from amusement to mild terror. The second, was – and he wondered why he hadn’t noticed this previously – there were lights coming from the small home directly next to the church. He’d lived in this town long enough to know that this was usually where the pastor lived – though, he hadn’t been to church in so long that he had no idea who that was.   
The third thing he noticed was the door of the house opening, and a figure peering out. He was too far away to get a good look at him, but he was certain of one thing – he was about to meet the new pastor.   
Maybe it was because he was nervous, but it seemed to Frank that it took the man an unusually long time to get to him. For a moment, he considered running, but he knew that he’d already been seen. Besides – Frank Iero was not a coward. At least if he stayed and faced up to what he’d done, he’d have the moral high-ground over his friends, and therefore had the right to mock them, at least until they redeemed themselves.   
As the man approached, Frank realised why he was taking so long to get to him – he was walking with a cane. It seemed peculiar to him, considering that, from what he could see, the man wasn’t that old. Perhaps in his early fourties, at the latest. Frank wouldn’t have said that he was too young to be a priest, per se, but he was younger than the ones they’d had previously, who tended to be in their 70s or 80s.   
“D-don’t move!” the man called, beginning to teeter forward a little faster. Frank sighed and held his hands up in surrender, moving closer. Priests couldn’t carry guns, could they?   
“I’m not going anywhere, sir,” Frank replied, taking a few more steps forward. There was a few moments pause in which the man moved closer, but eventually he stopped relatively close to Frank. He could have only been maybe three or four feet taller than Frank (who, to be fair, was shorter than average), and had a mess of black hair on his head. He was currently wearing a dark purple bathrobe, under which Frank assumed he had on pyjamas. Round reading glasses rested on his thin, upturned nose, and Frank felt vaguely sorry that he’d clearly interrupted his evening. The younger boy swallowed.   
“I’m sorry for the window, sir,” he said, his voice soft and to his ears, genuine. The priest glanced up, looking blank for a moment.   
“I don’t know you, do I? I mean – you don’t go to church?” he asked. Frank blushed and laughed weakly.   
“Ah, no sir. My parents do, though. The Ieros?” he asked. The priest’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment, and he seemed to go blank again, before nodding slowly.   
“I know them. That means you’re Frank, yes?” he asked, looking at him curiously from over the edge of his glasses. Frank smiled.   
“Yes, sir, that’s me,” he told him. For some reason, he felt himself repressing the urge to bow, or something equally as lame. Huh. The priest pursed his lips and held his hand out.   
“I’m Father Way. Or Gerard, if we’re outside of church,” he said, his voice polite, and with a cold edge that, for whatever reason, made Frank vaguely uncomfortable. Regardless, he shook the older man’s hand.   
“I’m real sorry about your window, sir. It was an accident,” he said weakly. Gerard looked over the boy and, to his surprise, smirked. It was a gesture that Frank really didn’t expect to come from a priest. It sort of ruined the stoic vibe.   
“Come on now, Frank. I know your parents. They confess to me weekly. And although I can’t share with you what they’ve said, I must say – they are concerned about you. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.” His tone was condescending, but his lips were still quirked up with the remnants of his smile. Frank laughed nervously, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. After a moment, he seemed to think better of it and took them out.   
“I mean, I’m no, uh, saint –“ he glanced up, cheeks reddening – “but I’m not the kind of kid to intentionally fuck up a church,” he explained. It took him about three seconds to realise he’d sworn in front of priest.   
“Shit. Sorry. Oh, fuck. Sorry, I-“   
Gerard laughed, shaking his head.   
“It’s okay. We’re not in Church,” he reminded him. His smile turned from amused to fond. From their brief conversation, and Frank’s apparent nervousness and unease, he pretty much realised that Frank really wasn’t that bad a person. Troubled, yes. Self-destructive, almost certainly. But he wasn’t lost. That is to say, Gerard wasn’t ready to give up hope. Gerard was quiet for a moment, his nails clicking a little against the wooden stick. As if by trigger, Frank began to click his lip ring against his teeth to mimic the noise.   
“Okay, Frank. I have an idea,” he said, his voice cool. Frank looked up, eyebrows raised and interest piqued.  
“Yes, sir?” he asked. Gerard blushed and smiled softly.   
“Firstly, don’t call me sir. It makes me feel old. Secondly – how about you come to my place for some tea, and we can work out how you can make up the window to me. Sound good?” he asked. Normally, this would be where Frank would make some excuse why he couldn’t and disappear – but he didn’t feel any desire to. Maybe it was the kind, warm look in the priest’s eyes, or the fact that he was being so calm about the whole thing, but Frank found himself nodding.   
“Yeah, okay,” he agreed softly, without any reluctance. Gerard grinned – this only proved to him that Frank really wasn’t a lost cause. Not in the least.


	2. Chapter 2

The priest’s home was far more comfortable than it looked from the outside. While the exterior was cold, grey brick and flat white panelled windows, the inside was very, very warm. Splashes of red, gold and orange decorated every possible surface, with several posters covering the wall. Some were, of course, religious – paintings of Jesus or saints. But there were others. Band posters – some of which that made Frank raise his eyebrows in surprise – lined a wall by the staircase. What really caught his attention, though, were the pictures stuck up haphazardly around the cluttered desk to the corner of the living room. They looked hand-drawn in a style that was reminiscent of comic books. Needless to say, it wasn’t really what Frank had expected of the home of a priest.   
The sofa that Frank was perched on was made of some old, thickened leather that had perhaps once been black, but was now a dusty brown with occasional spots of red. As Gerard sat down on it, it gave out a soft creak and the unmissable scent of stale cigarettes. Gerard smiled, passing Frank a mug of tea.   
“You have a nice home, Father,” Frank commented, taking a gentle sip from his mug. He fought the urge to moan, because hell – Gerard made a good cup of tea. It warmed his throat and chest, and he felt his whole body relaxing, losing the tension that remained on his shoulders. Gerard smiled, looking over the rim of his cup at Frank.   
“Thank you, Frank. I haven’t been in it for very long, but I think I’ve managed to personalise it,” he said, looking fondly at a David Bowie poster plastered onto the fading wallpaper. Frank smiled politely and continued to just sip at his tea, not speaking for the time being. Maybe if he didn’t mention it, Gerard would forget all about the window.   
However, if anyone was going to forget about something like that, it certainly wasn’t going to be a priest. A few moments later, Gerard set his mug down on the table and fixed Frank with a stern look.   
“Now, Frank. As grateful as I am for you being so co-operative with this whole window business, the fact remains that you destroyed public property. If I don’t take action against you, the police will,” he explained. Frank sighed, setting his own cup down. He was almost tempted to give him puppy dog eyes, but he was pretty certain that it wouldn’t work one bit. Frank just nodded in agreement.   
“I know, sir,” he mumbled. Gerard gave a soft smile.   
“So, here is my proposition. I’ll call your parents and tell them what you did, so they can think of their own punishment. Alongside that, I’d like you to do some jobs for me around the Church, to help pay off the money I’ll have to spend on the new window. Is that fair enough?” he asked gently. Frank wanted to complain about his treatment, but he had to admit that yes, it was a very good deal. It was better than getting the cops involved, anyway. Frank ran his hands over his jeans and sighed, before eventually looking up at Gerard.   
“Yes. That’s…very generous,” he said sincerely. Gerard smiled, reaching over and putting a hand on Frank’s knee.   
“I’m glad you think so. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at seven, so you can help me prepare for the service at nine. Is that okay?” he asked, watching Frank carefully. Frank was about to open his mouth to complain, but he caught Gerard’s eyes. Once again, there was that vague shadow of amusement buried in the golden hazel of his irises, almost like he knew exactly what Frank was going to say. It was unnerving, to say the least, to have someone staring through you. Especially if that person was a priest. All at once, every dirty or immoral thought Frank had ever had seemed to spring to his mind, projected onto the galactical shimmer of the priest’s eyes, and Frank was ashamed.   
“Yes, Father,” Frank breathed weakly, chewing on his lip ring. Gerard nodded, smiling softly as he picked his mug back up. He took a small sip and sighed.   
“Thank you, Frank,” he said gently, before motioning that Frank should have more of his own tea. Frank felt…strange. Not bad, just strange. Had he been anywhere else, he’d have ruled out the idea of a religious experience, but now it seemed entirely possible and likely. He’d never felt anything like it before – like a rush of pure energy igniting his bones, setting him alight from the inside. He wondered if Gerard could see the light shining through him – was it light or hellfire? He imagined that the light was shining shadows onto the sharp cuts of the priest’s face, yet the older man had no reaction. He sat as serenely as a saint, sipping out of his porcelain cup. The clink of his squared teeth against the rim echoed through Frank’s head like the toll of a bell and he found his hand moving to grasp the other man’s before he could stop it. It wasn’t his fault. He felt so overwhelmed, he needed to feel something _real_. To his upmost surprise, Gerard just smiled softly.   
“Can I help you, Frank? You look…strange,” he admitted. Frank swallowed.   
“Father, have you ever spoken to God?” he asked, his voice tight. Gerard smiled, a fond, adoring look passing over his eyes – extinguishing the amused fire that was already dying in them.   
“Well, yes. Every day, I speak to God as many times as I feel He will allow it. I think there is no better love than the love of God, and so I speak to him at every given moment,” he explained. Frank made a frustrated noise and shifted.   
“Has he ever spoken back?” he asked. He was just desperate to pin a cause to the strange feeling in his mind. Gerard tilted his head, that same whimsical smile on his lips.   
“Yes and no. He’s never _spoken_ to me, but I know he hears me, and I know he loves me. I get this…feeling,” his eyes were glazed over slightly, a smile still playing around his lips. It was endearing to Frank, but didn’t help much in terms of his predicament.   
“Does it feel like your whole body is made of light and…and like you might explode?” he asked, his tone veering on desperation. Gerard laughed softly, but nodded.   
“Yes, Frank. That’s exactly what it feels like,”

Frank didn’t know why God would speak to him. Sure, he was doing a good deed by helping Gerard out, but he was only doing that so the former wouldn’t call the cops. He didn’t figure that was a good enough thing to call God’s attention to him. For heaven’s sake, he didn’t even go to Church. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d prayed. It was all very strange, and certainly more than enough to keep him lying awake, staring up at the ceiling through tired, bloodshot eyes. If he’d looked, the clock on his bedside table would have told him that it was three-fourteen am, and that he only had about two and a half hours left of sleep before he had to wake up. But he didn’t check. He just stared up at the ceiling, trying to find some answer in the faint yellow stains and the soft cracks along the powdery surface.   
He didn’t know what to think, in all honesty. Maybe it’d been God, or maybe he’d just been anxious. All he knew was that he had to stay close to Gerard. The older man, for whatever reason, was the cause of that feeling he’d had earlier, and he liked it. Not only that, but there was something very refreshing about the older man. Perhaps it was the clerical collar that he’d seen resting on his desk, or the way his eyes shone with amusement he didn’t even attempt to hide, but Frank was interested in him. He’d never spoken to a priest, save for being scolded through the diamond windows of a confessional. Who knew, maybe Gerard could save him?   
Although, the question still stood in his mind: did he really need saving?

While staying up all night had seemed like a good idea at the time, when his alarm clock went off at precisely six-fourty-six, Frank felt a strong wave of nausea  that was only intensified by the insistent beeping of the clock. He smacked a hand down onto it, revelling in the silence for only a moment, before he remembered why it had gone off in the first place.   
Priest. Church. Broken window. Community service.   
Frank sighed and, after a few moments of trying to convince himself not to, kicked his blankets off of himself and sat up, a pout on his lips. He so didn’t want to be spending his Sunday like this – but hell, at least he wouldn’t be in jail. He slid off the bed, his feet touching the floor and immediately filling with that disorientating, almost insect-like buzz that came with early mornings and feet touching the floor a few hours before it was considered sane to do so.    
He got ready in a daze, sliding into his smart pants and a relatively dressy shirt – at least, it was smart enough for Church, and he figured that’s all that mattered.   
In the spirit of decency, Frank removed his facial piercings and didn’t bother with makeup – he had a feeling that Gerard would just ask him to take it off, anyway.   
By the time his clock showed that he had five minutes in which to get to the church, Frank was just about ready. Of course, he hadn’t quite managed to bend the space-time continuum, so it was highly unlikely that he’d actually make it to the church for seven.   
As he walked with the brown-red of the leaves making a fiery canopy above his head, he wondered how insistent Gerard was with the accuracy of attendance. He imagined that he’d be fairly cool – although, he wasn’t sure. He was only going to be about five minutes late or so. Maybe the older man wouldn’t notice at all. That’s, of course, if Frank was very lucky – which he rarely was.

As it turned out, he was exactly seven minutes late to church, and by the time he got there, Gerard was nowhere to be seen. He frowned, dropping his bag onto a pew in the back and walking through.   
“Father?” he called, peering around the church. He didn’t hear a reply, so to speak – but he did hear humming from the back room. He didn’t recognise the song, but automatically assumed it was a hymn. He followed the soft noise as it echoed off the tall stone walls, his hands pressed into his pockets. The closer he got, the more he realised that the song wasn’t a hymn at all – in fact, he was almost certain that Gerard was humming The Killers. He wasn’t sure why, but Frank was extremely amused by that idea.   
Eventually, he reached the source of the humming and opened the door. He’d expected to see Gerard sitting at a desk, or reading a bible, or even praying. What he didn’t think he’d see was the man, entirely shirtless as he changed into his clothes for the service. If the situation wasn’t mortifying enough, Gerard met his eyes in the mirror and gasped, almost falling over as he grabbed for something to cover himself with.   
“F-Frank. Oh, I-“ he stammered, quickly pulling his shirt on. Frank didn’t quite grasp that he should probably leave – he just stared at Gerard, entirely dumbfounded. It’s not that he didn’t know that priests had the ability to not wear clothes, it was just that it had never happened in front of him. Much later, he’d have to deal with the fact that he wasn’t entirely repulsed by the sight, nor the idea – but for now, he was busy spluttering apologies.   
“I’m so sorry, sir. I couldn’t find you, and I was late, and I wanted to apologise, and then I _saw_ and now…oh man, do I need to confess? Is seeing your priest shirtless a sin? Do _you_ have to confess? Hell, do priests confess? Can I say hell in church?”   
By the time Frank had finished rambling, Gerard had put his shirt on and slid his collar into place. Despite the awkward situation, he smiled at the boy.   
“Hang on, let me think. First, no you don’t have to confess, unless you feel like you need to. No, I don’t think it is. No, not for that. Yes, they do. And no, you can’t,” he said. His eyes were doing _that thing_ again, and Frank smiled a little. It was around that time that the panic that would ensue later that night began to ignite in his chest – he just didn’t realise it just yet.  Frank gave a soft laugh, relaxing almost immediately.   
“Well. Okay. Good to know. And I’m real sorry for bursting in on you –I’ll knock next time,” he assured him. Gerard put a hand on his shoulder and smiled.   
“Thank you, Frank. I appreciate it,” he grinned. Unfortunately for Frank, that touch, mixed with that smile, made his soon-to-be-panic arrive a couple hours earlier than it would have. Still, it was to happen later that evening, and he was still unaware of the oncoming emotional storm. For now, he was content.   
Frank shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled up at the other man.   
“So uh, what do you need me to do, Father?” he asked. Gerard grabbed his cane from the wall and beckoned him to follow, leading him out of the room. Frank followed obediently, letting his eyes roam around the Church. He remembered it fairly well from his childhood, although there had been some changes made (not including, of course, the large hole in Jesus’ face in the window). The cross at the front of the room was bigger than before it. He was fairly sure the pews were new too – made now out of shiny rosewood, as opposed to the dull maple they had been previously.   
“Here,” Gerard said, interrupting his thoughts. He gestured to a pile of bibles, and another pile of sheets, printed on light blue paper. The older man smiled softly.   
“Make sure each bible has a sheet tucked inside the front page. Then just distribute them around the pews,” he instructed. Frank looked over the table – the job seemed easy enough. There weren’t many people in the town, so it was a small church, and therefore a small job. He smiled easily up at Gerard.   
“Yes, sir,” he said with a smile. Gerard chuckled and patted his shoulder.   
“I appreciate it, Frank. It’s hard for me to do that kind of thing with this,” he said, gesturing to his cane distastefully. Frank began to get to work, easily sliding the sheets into the cover of the bibles. He wanted desperately to ask Gerard why he needed the cane, but he didn’t want to intrude. Gerard had been respectful to him thus far, and he reasoned to give the priest the same courtesy.   
Still, that was easier said than done, and Frank could feel the question clawing up his throat. He was actually relieved when Gerard excused himself to the back room to prepare himself for the service. Frank eventually got used to the monotonous movements of sliding paper into books, and putting them to one side, and didn’t realise he was finished until he reached for a book that wasn’t there.   
“That’s very good, Frank,” Gerard commented. The younger man actually jumped – he hadn’t realised the priest had returned. He turned around and saw Gerard leaning against the podium, smiling fondly at him. Frank shrugged, collecting the books into his arms.   
“I mean, it was easy. It’s not as bad as I was expecting,” he said, beginning to move down the aisles and distribute the books. The gentle click of wood against marble indicated that Gerard was following him, so he wasn’t so startled this time when he spoke.   
“Really? That worries me. What sort of awful thing did you assume I’d ask you to do?” he asked, grinning broadly. Frank laughed, not turning around as he focused on his task.   
“Well, I didn’t know. I was just hoping it didn’t involve me cleaning anything, or being one of those people that greet people. That would suck,” he murmured. Gerard laughed gently. The sound, for whatever reason, reminded Frank of smooth whiskey being poured over a glass of ice.   
“No, nothing like that. I just find it sort of difficult to do things by myself here, especially things that involve two hands,” he said, referencing again – or so Frank assumed – his cane. Frank nodded slowly.  
“I can imagine. And uh, I’m happy to help,” he said gently. Gerard hummed in agreement, and for a few moments, the men fell into a comfortable silence, Frank moving along the aisles, and Gerard walking a few paces behind him, his cane clicking against the floor.   
“So uh, you didn’t call my parents after all, huh?” Frank asked. He only knew because if his parents had received a phone call, he would certainly know about it. Gerard made a soft noise, shrugging even though he knew Frank couldn’t see.   
“I didn’t feel the need to. You’re very co-operative,” he said gently. Frank reached the end of the pews and turned around, smiling at Gerard.   
“Yeah?”   
“Yes. I mean, there’s no point in getting you in trouble if you’ve already taken responsibility for your actions. Once you’ve paid off the window, we’ll be even.” A relieved look passed over Frank’s features and he grinned.   
“Thank you so much, Father. I really appreciate it,” he said. Gerard chuckled and smiled at him, but didn’t give a verbal response. Something passed between them in that moment. One minute, Frank was staring up into those star-filled eyes, and the next, Gerard seemed to be glowing. It was like each pulse of his heart was filling him with more light, the galaxies in his eyes swirling with an intensity that would put the real stars to shame. That wasn’t the weirdest part, though.  This orb of light, igniting through Gerard’s bones and filling his skin, began to move outwards. It throbbed and pulsed in the air, until it touched Frank’s skin, too. He expected it to be hot, but it wasn’t – it was cool, but still had a gentle warmth to it. He felt like a Spring afternoon, with flowers sprouting in his stomach, entwining in his ribs and blossoming through the veins in his lungs. Birds perched on his collarbones and breathed soft symphonies into his ear, as the sunlight haze emitting from Gerard’s body filled every inch of his being. He could barely see the Priest now – he was bathed in a glimmering, blinding stream of light, with no apparent source. The only thing Frank could deduce was that the light was coming from Gerard’s very soul.   
And then it was gone, with the blink of an eye.   
There was no light. No Spring. No flowers, or birds. It was just him and the man, twice his own age, standing alone, crowded by the church walls. Gerard was standing so close to Frank that the younger man could see the hint of stubble that he’d missed when shaving, and faintly smell the coffee on his lips. When Gerard’s tongue darted out to lick at his bottom lip, he saw the muscle flatten, and the wet line that was left behind. Maybe it was the empty church, or the distance, or the strange feeling that was settling over both of them, but their breathing seemed to be the only sound in the world – deafening in the holy silence of the church.   
“Um. Anyway,” Gerard breathed. His voice was like an avalanche, shaking the foundations beneath Frank’s feet and forcing him back into reality. Frank took a shaking step back, nearly tripping over his own feet as he did. He grabbed onto the dark wood of the pew and smiled weakly up at him.   
“Um. Yeah. You wanted me to… uh. Do something?” he asked, very disorientated from his experience. It was almost like what he’d had the night before but…more powerful, somehow. It was more beautiful, too. Gerard laughed, his cheeks blossoming with a pinkish flush. He leaned heavily on his cane for support, the white of his knuckles pressing against his skin, taught over the bone.  That was the only time so far that Frank had seen Gerard anything but composed. He glanced back up to his face and saw the man looking to the large cross at the front of the church, his jaw clenched so hard the veins stood out in his forehead. Something was clearly bothering him. (In actuality, Gerard was currently having a minor version of the panic that would plague Frank later that evening.)   
“Father?” Frank asked weakly, reaching out to touch his arm. Before he could, Gerard seemed to snap out of his trance and jumped back a little, using his cane to steady himself. He smiled weakly.   
“Frank. Yes. Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. He looked over the church. “Follow me,” he instructed, leading the way back to the front, moving faster than should have been possible with the aid of his cane.  Frank cleared his throat, for some reason feeling entirely embarrassed, and followed silently behind him, trying to shake off the last remains of stardust that clung to the back of his mind.

The rest of that morning was fairly mundane. Gerard had Frank doing menial jobs around the church, helping to prepare for the service. While Frank didn’t go to church himself, he was always appreciative of the effort that was put into the ceremonies – but now, even more so. He didn’t realise how many little things had to be done. Nor could he even imagine how Gerard was able to do it on his own with his cane.   
He asked about it at one point while he was helping set things out on the table, and Gerard just shrugged.   
“I do what I can with what I was given by the Lord. If a slight limp and the assistance of a cane is all I have impairing my life, then I have no reason to complain. Although-“  he stopped, giving Frank a gentle smile “-I’m not at all ungrateful for your help. This is a lot smoother and faster. So thank you,” he said brightly. Frank shrugged nonchalantly.   
“It’s nothing. You’re…not bad to talk to,”   
That made Gerard laugh, the sound reverberating off the marble walls. His smile was wide and slightly lopsided, and Frank felt a softening in his chest (and really, that should have been his first red flag. But it wasn’t. Not yet.)   
“I’m glad to hear that, Frank. You’re okay, too,” he said. That smirk crossed Gerard’s face again, and Frank had the same thought as before – a Priest, surely, should not be able to look that smug. Not, at the very least, one as aged as Gerard. Then again – was the man even that old? He wasn’t _elderly_ , he was just older than Frank. The younger man got the impression that Gerard looked young for his age, too. He clearly took care of himself, with his ‘strategically’ messy hairstyle, and almost perfectly unblemished skin.   
“How old are you?” Frank found himself asking. He widened his eyes, clapping his hand over his mouth. Gerard looked taken aback, but not displeased. He smiled.   
“I just turned fourty two,”   
Frank was genuinely surprised at that. Gerard really did look young for his age. Frank nodded slowly, looking to the cross at the front of the room.  
“Oh,” he said. He wasn’t bothered by the answer – he just wasn’t sure how to respond. He glanced back up at the Priest and smiled, “you look younger than that,” he told him. Gerard laughed again, and put a hand on Frank’s shoulder.   
“Well, ah. Thank you,” he said, his voice distant. His eyebrows furrowed for a minute, before he looked at Frank. “The service is going to start soon. Can you help me put my robe on?” he asked. For some reason, the question made Frank blush, but he nodded. Gerard smiled in acknowledgement and led Frank back to the room he’d seen him dressing in earlier. On the wall, like a bejewelled ghost, hung a long white robe, with red and gold stripes down the front. Gerard rested his cane against the wall and hobbled over to it, clearly having trouble with the movement. Frank, however, wasn’t sure if he should help him or if that would be seen as patronising, so he just waited for further instructions. Luckily, Gerard didn’t need any help in doing that part, and pulled the cloak over his frame. He looked over at Frank and smiled.   
“Can you button this up for me?” he asked. Now that Frank was looking, he could see white buttons nestled into the silk of the fabric, like pearls scattered in the snow. He nodded, approaching the older man and beginning to do the buttons up. As his hands began to close each hole, he began to get uncomfortably aware of Gerard’s presence near him. It was like he was emitting heat, and Frank’s body was – for whatever reason - eager to get closer. As it was, he took a gentle step forward, his hands beginning to work more slowly, even without him thinking about it. It was at that moment that he realised that Gerard smelled _really_ good. Sort of like some kind of incense, but also something else – kind of like mint, but sweeter. Frank took a deep breath that left him with a heady feeling. He helped himself to another once he’d recovered. It was like a cheap drug with a shitty high – yet Frank was addicted all the same.   
He finished the buttons, to his dismay, and stepped back. Gerard turned and smiled, his cheeks slightly flushed.   
“Thank you, Frank. You’re welcome to go, if you’d like. But you’re welcome to stay for the service,” he said kindly. Although Frank was tempted to stay, he felt like he needed to leave. Something was going on with him, and he felt like the longer he stayed in the Church, the worse it would be. Frank shrugged.   
“Nah, I’m good, thanks. But uh. I’ll see you next Sunday, okay?” he offered. Gerard gave a soft, kind smile. Already the sound of voices could be heard, of people waiting to be let into the church.   
“Of course. Thank you,” Gerard said. He held his hand out for a handshake and, for whatever reason, the gesture threw Frank completely. Maybe he just hadn’t been expecting something so formal – but then, what was he expecting? Frank smiled and shook his hand, before darting towards the door as quickly as he could without seeming impolite. This Church was getting to him. Perhaps it was just the guilt for not going to one for so long, or maybe it was the fact he’d broken the window.  
It was something like that, for sure. What else could it be?


	3. Chapter 3

By the next morning, Frank had pretty much forgotten his little episode. The panic he’d had the night before (which had, indeed, been a terrible one) had faded, the last tendrils clinging to his mind like a bad dream.  
Gerard? Gerard who? He was going crazy.  
 In fact, when his alarm went off, he felt in a particularly good mood that he couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was just the knowledge that he was now in the position to tear a literal chunk out of his friends for abandoning him the day before. They were lucky that Gerard was such a reasonable man – otherwise, Frank would probably walk away from them, leaving a few black eyes in his wake. But no – since the priest was such a genuinely kind man, and Frank didn’t mind at all spending time with him, he’d just act a little pissed off for a while (which he was), and wait for them to apologise (they would).  
Frank smirked as he approached the four students leaning against the wall, waiting for him. They knew they’d messed up – he intentionally hadn’t replied to their messages all weekend (because yes, that’s how eighteen year old boys got revenge).  
Unsurprisingly, it was the only girl in the group – Mia – who made a move towards him first. With her black combat boots, choppy black hair and septum ring, she looked pretty intimidating. Not necessarily in a ‘I’ll beat you up’ kind of way, more in a ‘I’ll make you cry with one word’. When Frank had first met her, even _he_ was afraid to speak to her – and that was saying something. Once you got past the icy glare of her eyes and the sharpness of her tongue, though, she was – and was often referred to as – a cupcake.  
By the time Mia reached him, Frank was unable to keep the smile from his face.  
“Hey, Princess,” (the nickname was sarcastic, even if she secretly loved it), “how’s things?”  
Mia slowed for a moment, furrowing her brow.  
Frank knew he was in trouble when she flared her nostrils, moving faster towards him. She was only about two inches shorter than him, but he was certain she could gnaw his ankles off.  
“Frank Iero you _asshole_ ,” she said, smacking his arm. He jumped back, frowning.  
“Hey! Woah, the fuck you hitting me for, tiny?” he said. She glowered, and he was almost nervous.    
“Because. We were all fucking… _worried_. You wouldn’t reply to any of us,” she said, her bottom lip quivering in the threat of a pout. By then, the other boys had come to flank her, looking at Frank with expressions of frustration, laced with apology. Frank shrugged, the mischievous smile still tugging at his lips.  
“What can I say? I like leaving you losers out to dry,” he said coolly, moving towards the doors. One of the boys – Damien – grabbed his arm to keep his attention. Had it been anyone else, Frank would probably have shrugged him off, but Damien was much taller than him, with rippling muscles that pressed under his ebony skin. He wasn’t quite as sweet as Mia, but Frank knew he wouldn’t hurt him. Not unless he had to.  
“Alright, alright,” Frank said, holding his hands up in an apologetic gesture. He turned to his friends and smiled reassuringly, as if he were the jury instead of them. This certainly didn’t go the way he’d planned. His friends were as unpredictable as he liked to pretend to be.  
“It’s fine, guys. I’m not mad that you abandoned me,” he said, arching an eyebrow. Mia popped her hip, looking up at him.  
“Did you get in trouble?” she asked, clearly voicing the thoughts of the whole group. He smiled and shook his head.  
“Nah. The new Priest  – Father Way. He’s a pretty nice guy.  He just said I need to help him out around the Church until I’ve paid off the money for the window I broke. He didn’t even tell my parents,” he said. His stomach tightened a little at the memory of the man’s cool demeanour, but he dismissed it. He was probably just feeling sort of embarrassed about being the Priest’s bitch.  
His friends, however, didn’t seem phased.  
“Well,” said Damien, “I guess it’s just good he didn’t call the police. My Mom said he’s pretty cool,” he said with a gentle shrug. Frank nodded in agreement.  
“Yeah, I mean. He’s kind of intense, y’know? But he’s a nice enough guy. Could have had me locked up or something, but he didn’t,”  
“Well, I mean, he’s a Priest. That’s what they do, right?” said Cooter, biting off a hangnail. Nobody quite knew where the nickname had come from, and in the absence of an actual name, it stuck. He was taller than Frank, but shorter than Damien, and frequently pretended that he took himself seriously. It was possibly his favourite game, other than terrifying the ninth graders. Out of the group, he was by far the most likely to actually get into a fight. Frank looked at him, arching an eyebrow.  
“They don’t call the cops when you break their windows?” Frank asked incredulously. Cooter rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his brown hair – grown intentionally too long, almost like a statement.  
“No, dumbass. I mean…the whole forgiveness thing. Forgive thy neighbour or some shit like that. It was probably his good deed of the day,” he deduced. Mia snorted.  
“Cooter, I don’t think Priests _need_ good deeds of the day. They’re like, married to God,”  
“That’s Nuns,” Cooter retaliated. Thankfully for the sanity of all present, the bell tolled to announce the beginning of the school day, and the group began to move forward. As they did, Frank caught the last of the group, Daniel, on the shoulder.  
“Hey. You alright, dude? You seem sort of quiet today,” he said gently.  Daniel looked up, pushing his light blonde hair away from his face and offering a weak smile.  
“I’m good.  Didn’t sleep,” he said softly. He was naturally soft-spoken, with a constant blush gracing his cheeks. He was by far the most gentle of the group, and the others tended to protect him. Maybe a bit too much.  
Frank smiled and patted him on the back.  
“Alright man, if you say so,” he said. Daniel nodded, and the two boys entered the building together.

Every Monday, after school, the five friends collected in Mia’s Dad’s basement for band practice. It’d been that way for as long as they could remember, and now they didn’t even have to confirm it with each other. Mia’s Father, having won custody of her after the divorce of her parents, was quite doting, and willing to spend whatever money he had on her. While that _could_ have made her spoilt, all she asked was for a practice space for her band, and she got it. Both of them felt like they had a good deal.  
The only member of the group that wasn’t part of the band was Daniel. Being the only one who didn’t see himself as proficient in an instrument (really, none of them were), he preferred to just sit and watch, occasionally giving feedback. Of course, feedback often meant unwavering praise, but the band weren’t totally bothered by that.  
That evening, as they collected in Mia’s basement, they  were chatting animatedly amongst themselves as they tuned their instruments (or, in Daniel’s case, found a comfortable place to sit).  
Frank arrived slightly late, looking in a state of disarray.  
“What’s going on?” he asked, noticing the unusual buzz of activity. Mia turned a broad grin onto him.  
“Frankie, Damien’s a genius,” she said. Frank snorted, grabbing his guitar from the wall.  
“We all knew that,” he said sarcastically, leaning against the wall to tune. Mia rolled her eyes, her irises momentarily disappearing behind the precise line of black on her upper lid.  
“No, asshat, I’m serious. He thought of a name for us,” she said, turning to beam at the man in question. Frank often thought that Damien played drums for an excuse to hide at the back – that was certainly what he was doing now.  
“Go on then,” he said, an unwelcome tinge of interest staining his otherwise entirely bored tone. Mia gave him a wide-eyed smile.  
“Mouthsick,” she said, with all the grandeur of an infomercial actor. Frank looked up, playing a few chords on his guitar.  
“Mouthsick? That’s…gross,”  
“Gross, yes. Punk – also yes,” Mia insisted. Frank made a soft, amused noise.  
“I wouldn’t call us punk, Princess. Maybe like – pop punk,” he didn’t miss the disgusted wrinkle of Mia’s nose.  
“Don’t use that word in my house,” she growled, pulling her bass over her head. Cooter approached his microphone, guitar already tuned and in hand.  
“Actually,” he said, his voice echoing around the room, “that’s two words, cupcake,” he said smugly. Mia flipped him the finger and stood at her own microphone.  
“It’s Mouthsick. I’m the singer so I get to decide,” she said firmly. She was so determined that nobody quite had the heart to tell her that that’s not how it worked.

The practice ended a few hours later when Mia’s father got home, claiming to have a headache. It was fairly routine by now for them to have to clear out on account of his lame excuses. They were normally exhausted by the time this happened anyway, so they were happy to oblige.  
Normally, Frank would just walk home, masturbate, and nap until dinner time. But for whatever reason, today he found himself walking down a different path. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going, until he saw the high peak of the Church approaching.  He could, in theory, get home this way, but it involved a much longer journey. He hadn’t walked this way since he’d discovered the shortcut from Mia’s place to his own, which involved walking through a woods-like park. It was normally quite a pleasant walk, so he had no idea at all why he was here. Maybe it was just him being absent-minded, his brain clouded with the full day of school and band practice. Though, somewhere in his mind he realised that was a lie when he saw the light on in the home next to the Church.  
He stood there for a moment, the autumn air kissing his face as he considered his next move. Should he go over? Did he even _want_ to? What if Gerard was busy, or didn’t want to see him? He thought all these things, mixed with the confusion of why he was even there in the first place, but felt his feet move slowly forward.  
His mind flashed back to the panic of the night before and he finally stopped dead in his tracks.  
He remembered it, now.  
He remembered the way he’d stared out the window and wondered if the Priest was looking at those stars, or if they were really shining from his eyes. His head had still been filled with that sweet, yet musky scent, and his hands were tracing, over and over, the feeling of those buttons under his fingers.  
And oh God, maybe Gerard was a Saint but Frank was a fucking sinner. And the words – the damn truth – burned a hole in the back of his skull and rose like acid in his throat, but he couldn’t spit them out. He swallowed hard, flushing away the hymns that lined his mouth, but they kept being rewritten and rewritten and rewritten. He wanted to run but the Devil had his ankles, and above his head there was an angel with a clerical collar and he was staring at him in dismay.  
All this happened in a matter of ten seconds, where the cool wind didn’t bother him because he was being warmed by hellfire.  
The flames were killed by a hand on his shoulder, and he recognised it straight away and almost melted into purgatory, saved only by that cool, clean voice-  
“Frank?”  
Frank spun around, not even surprised when he saw Gerard standing there, his face contorted into an expression of concern.  
“Father,” he whispered. Gerard’s eyes roamed over his face and he frowned even more, lines in his face deepening. Frank only realised when he frowned just how _old_ the other man was.  
“Frank, are you alright? You seem…shaken,” he said softly. It should have maybe made things worse, but somehow, the coolness of Gerard’s voice soothed Frank. It was like he was filling him with holy water, burning out the sin he hadn’t committed yet.  
The sin he didn’t even fully understand yet.  
Frank swallowed and forced a smile.  
“I just…I don’t know. Father, I feel strange. I don’t know why I walked this way. I was walking home and –“ he cut himself off when he realised there were tears in his eyes. Gerard smiled kindly.  
“Come on, Frank. I’ll make you some tea and we can talk,” he said gently, offering him the arm that wasn’t attached to the cane. Frank sniffed and nodded, his hand gracing the other man’s.  
The contact actually helped. Gerard wasn’t a divine figure, or a Madonna. He was just a man. A mortal, imperfect man. Frank could deal with that. Probably.

Frank’s hands curled around the mug of tea again. He vaguely noted that it was the same one as before, and felt a sort of sense of ownership over it.  
Gerard was just wearing baggy blue jeans and a dark blue knitted sweater. He moved to the record player on his desk, putting on a disk that Frank couldn’t identify, before moving back to the sofa.  
Frank wondered if the music was really distorted, or if his brain was moving more slowly than usual.  
The sofa dipped as Gerard sat down and gave him a soft smile.  
“So. You wanna talk about it?” Gerard asked sweetly. Frank looked up at him, expecting to see the universe in his eyes. He was almost shocked when he didn’t.  
What he faced instead was the warmest, most comforting sight he could imagine. It was like a mug of steaming hot chocolate on a snow day, or the feeling of falling into bed after a busy, tiring day. He felt his whole body relax, like he’d sink into the sofa, if not for the comforting hand on Frank’s shoulder. He swallowed hard.  
“I do. And if I’m going to tell anyone, it would be you. But I…I honestly don’t know what’s happening,” he admitted.  
“Maybe…describe it?” he asked. Frank paused. What was he supposed to say? ‘I’m not too sure, but I might have a crush on you, or maybe I’m just overwhelmed because you’re so pure, but every inch of me seems attracted to you’? He just sighed.  
“I can’t. I don’t know. I’m sorry for bothering you,” he mumbled.  Gerard made a gentle noise, rubbing his hand over Frank’s shoulder, fingers touching his shoulder blade. Frank felt ice cold where he’d touched him – but warm somehow, too.  
“You couldn’t bother me, Frank. Believe it or not, but I actually appreciate your company,” he smiled. He let his hand rest on Frank’s shoulder blade, and the boy genuinely believed that there would be some sort of scar in the shape of the man’s hand. They were silent for a moment, drinking their respective drinks. Gerard stood suddenly, moving to his desk. He stopped to flip the vinyl over, then opened a drawer and took something out. He walked over to Frank, the object in his hand.  
“Take this. And whenever you feel weighed down by the world, hold it until you feel better,” he said softly. He opened his hand, revealing a rosary. The beads switched between deep, purple red, and a delicate pink. The cross itself was the same deep brown as the pews in the church. Instead of nails through the body, though, there were pink roses. Frank thought it was a beautiful alternative.  
He took it, still feeling the heat of the Priests hands on the wood, and blushed deeply.  
“Thank you, Father. Really. But…I can’t take this. I mean. I’m not much of a prayer kind of guy,” he admitted.  
Gerard’s smile reached all the way to his eyes. As his frown had made him look older, the boyish grin on his face made him seem much, much younger.  
“Maybe, Frank, it’s time that you give prayer another shot,”

On Gerard’s instruction, Frank tried praying that night. He kneeled at the side of his bed, rosary wound between his fingers, his head bowed. He was silent for a moment, trying to channel that divine feeling he got in the Church and, taking a deep breath, began to pray.  
“Dear Father. Dear God. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I haven’t committed a sin yet, I don’t think – but I feel like I might. My feelings for Father Way are…confusing and overwhelming.  I don’t know what they are. Please help me to understand what I’m feeling. And if my feelings are impure, as I feel they may be, then help me get over it,”  
His voice was a gentle murmur, barely audible, even in the still, autumn night.  
He raised his head and looked around. He quickly found that he didn’t feel any different at all, and felt almost ridiculous for actually trying it. He threw the rosary into the drawer of his bedside table and collapsed into bed.  
Thankfully, that night, he didn’t have any sudden realisation.  
None that he could remember, anyway.


	4. four

If Gerard had noticed anything weird about Frank’s behaviour that day, he certainly didn’t mention it the following Sunday. This time, Frank arrived on time, and was surprised to find that the Church was locked.   
He was amused at the fact that he’d beaten the Priest to Church. It seemed almost ironic, in a way.   
Frank, from where he was standing, could see the light emitting from the small home nestled on the Church grounds, but he knew better than to invite himself in. He’d come to the conclusion that he _didn’t_ have some strange crush on Gerard, and that all of his feelings were just guilt for breaking the window, and for not having been to Church in years. The more he considered it, the more ridiculous the previous notion seemed. Gerard was slightly overweight with messy hair and _wrinkles_. There was nothing at all appealing about him, save for his personality.   
As he considered the thought, something nagged at Frank’s brain, but he shrugged it off. He was being ridiculous.   
Still, he figured he should keep his distance. Just in case.

Gerard walked up to the Church a few minutes later. He was already dressed in his Priest clothes, save his collar, and smiled when he saw Frank. He raised a hand to wave, but as he did, hit a dip in the grass with his cane. Frank watched, as if in slow motion, as the man’s body shook with unsteadiness, before he fell to the floor.   
Luckily, Frank’s reflexes kicked in fairly quickly, and he made his way over, his feet moving more quickly than he thought they would in this situation. Within seconds he was crouched next to the man, hands on his arms.   
“Are you okay, Father?” he asked. Gerard looked shaken, but unharmed. His weak, insincere smile and nod confirmed this, and Frank felt a wave of relief run over him.   
“Yes, I’m good. Thank you,” he said, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Frank found it oddly endearing, a gentle smile quirking up the side of his mouth.   
“The ground is really uneven here,” Frank said, almost in condolence. Gerard huffed and grabbed his cane from where it fell beside him, the knuckles in his hand white against his skin. He looked genuinely angered, and it was disconcerting to Frank, in comparison to his normally cool demeanour.   
“It’s this…this _thing_ ,” Gerard growled. Frank rose to his feet and offered Gerard a hand which, after a moment, he accepted. Frank frowned as he watched the other man rise to his feet, his entire frame seeming to droop with his lowered mood, like it was a physical weight dragging down. Frank titled his head.   
“Can I ask…why you-“  
“No. Let’s go,” Gerard snapped, walking away from him. Frank was struck by his uncharacteristic grouchiness. Although he could see why he was reacting this way, it was a total perspective shifter. He’d seen the man as completely mild and pure. The idea that he wasn’t, for whatever reason, was very intriguing to Frank.

He followed behind the other man after a moment, and was strangely offended to see him doing the job he’d given to Frank only the week before. He was walking with heavy reliance on the cane, cradling the papers in one hand and distributing them with the other. It seemed like an awkward balancing act, and Frank couldn’t help but stare for a moment, waiting with the upmost suspense for the moment that Gerard would either drop the papers, or go sprawling again.   
That was, of course, until he remembered that he was meant to be doing what Gerard was.   
“Father!” he called, jogging up the aisle to him, “Let me.”   
Gerard looked up at him with a darkened, annoyed expression.   
“Oh. So you’re actually going to do your job?” he asked sharply. Frank physically recoiled from his tone and, for a moment, Gerard could be seen to soften.   
“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t-  
“I don’t need your help. I can do this on my own,” he said tersely, pushing past him. Unfortunately for him, the side of his cane hit the pew and he stumbled, dropping some of the papers. He bit down hard on his lip, presumably to refrain from cursing. Frank couldn’t blame him.   
“Father-“ Frank said. He picked up the papers and took the others from Gerard’s hand. He smiled softly. “Maybe you don’t _need_ my help. But I want to help,” he said gently, touching the man’s arm. Gerard dropped his eyes, looking very ashamed of himself. Gerard covered Frank’s hand with his own, looking down at Frank with a soft expression.   
“Thank you, Frank. And I’m sorry, for -  
“No. Father, really. I get it,” he smiled gently. He didn’t move his hand, but wouldn’t let himself admit that it was because he was enjoying the warmth of the other man’s hand on his own. Gerard’s skin was soft and delicate-feeling on his own, like he’d never done a day’s work in his life. It was the wrinkles that adorned his face, like intricate embroidery, and the faraway look in his eyes that gave him away. Gerard didn’t move his hand either, and Frank didn’t stop to wonder why.   
“When you’re done with this, come see me. I want to show you something,” he said gently. Perhaps against his better judgement, Gerard gave Frank’s hand a firm squeeze, before letting go and walking back up the aisle. Frank was turned away, but the gentle, steady click – and its sudden absence – told Frank that he got to his room without any further accidents.

When Frank was done, he approached the room, knocking lightly on the wooden door, with a large cross carved in the middle.   
“Father?”   
“Come in, Frank. It’s open,” came the sagely voice from inside. Frank pushed the door open, and was entirely embarrassed by the grin that spread across his face when he saw Gerard. He felt a little better when he saw it mirrored on Gerard’s. Behind the elation though, Frank could see the faint glimmer of nerves, like a man who’d decided to walk in public naked.   
The thought made Frank blush, and he cleared his throat before he could conjure any mental image.   
“You told me to-   
“Yes. Frank. Sit down,” he said gently – though his voice shook with nerves. Frank raised an eyebrow and sat down across from him, crossing his ankles as he looked at the other man.   
Gerard rubbed his hands along his thighs, and Frank could see the faint, damp stain where his sweat had settled into the fabric. Whatever he was about to say, Gerard was terrified of it. Frank wanted to comfort him, but he was tied to the chair by his own fear.   
“I…before I was at this Church, I was a military chaplain. My younger brother and I did it together, and it was actually…more fun than you’d think. The soldiers were good men, and they treated us well. They were very…protective of us, and we were of them, too. Between the two of us, I think me and Mikey – uh, my brother – spent hours praying for each of them and their families every night,” he glanced up at Frank, who waved him to continue. Gerard smiled, but it was shaking, like it might wilt any moment.   
“What my brother lacked in skill and experience, he made up for in passion. And ah, he…he ended up falling for one of the soldiers.” Again, he glanced up, before continuing.   
“The soldier fell for him right back. They had a secret romance for about a year. I was the only one who knew about it, and I prayed for them every night. I prayed that they’d be happy, that the soldier wouldn’t break my brother’s heart, and that God would forgive him for straying from his path. It was a time of moral turmoil, but…also love. Mostly love, really. And in time, I actually grew to accept it. On the last night we were together, I told my brother that I would marry him and his soldier. I’d never seen him so happy.” There was a soft light in Gerard’s eyes, like a nostalgic projector streaming golden light onto the marble floor of the Church. Frank didn’t realise when he’d leaned forward, but he didn’t think he could move away. His heart had squeezed at the part about God’s forgiveness, but he refused to allow himself to think too much upon it. Gerard cleared his throat before continuing, and it was only then that Frank saw the tears in his eyes.   
“There was an attack on our base. It was morally disgusting, on their part. They weren’t meant to come so close…” he shook his head, breathing deeply to stop the tears from sliding down his face. Frank’s heart was hammering in his chest, like it was trying to break free, so as to comfort the other man. When Gerard spoke again, his voice was nearly inaudible.   
“M-My brother and the soldier were together. They say the same bullet killed them both and…I don’t know. That’s kind of…” he waved a hand dismissively. Frank’s hand had somehow found his mouth, and it shook over his lips, Gerard’s form lost in the haze of the tears clouding Frank’s vision. Gerard cleared his throat again.   
“I was an idiot. I saw him go down, and the only thing I could think of was getting to my baby brother. I had to hold him one more time, to tell him I loved him. But I never got to because…because…” he wasn’t trying to hide his tears anymore, his whole body trembling as he fought the urge to fall into hysterics. He swiped at his eyes, but it was useless.   
“B-because they s-set off a bomb a few feet away from me. A-a-and it-“ he licked his bottom lip, his breath coming in short pants. He shook his head, signalling that he couldn’t speak anymore. Instead, he reached down and pulled up his trousers, revealing a long, tube of metal and wire, attached to a neat stump that ended just below his thigh. The leg didn’t look expert, but it wasn’t exactly cheap either. Frank realised with a start that Gerard had probably taken the best he could afford. Gerard’s next words confirmed this.   
“I couldn’t afford anything better, s-so it doesn’t…” he moved his leg, and Frank saw the unnatural movement, like it wasn’t quite sure where to put itself. Frank let out a short sob, his body trembling.   
“G-Gerard. Gerard, I’m so sorry,” he whispered. Without thinking, Frank stood up and enveloped the older man in a tight hug, his face pressing into his shoulder.  Gerard stiffened for a moment, but slowly melted into the younger man’s arms, letting himself be comforted by him. He hugged him close, his cheek pressing against his heart. He felt the erratic pound of the boy’s chest, matching his own. His hands tightened, pulling him closer. Frank did the same, a shiver running up his body. He felt a fire under his skin, and holding Gerard closer both extinguished it and made it so, so much worse.    
“Gerard,” he breathed, his voice strained. Gerard pulled back and gave him a look that was entirely needy, his whole face softened from crying. Frank put his hand to the Priest’s face, sucking in a breath when he leaned into it. He could feel the tears tickling his palm, and swiped his thumb across his skin to wipe them away. Gerard smiled despite himself, but it was a shadow of his usual grin. Gerard sniffed, pursing his lips. He was looking at Frank like he held all the answers in the world. Frank wished, more than anything, that he could tell Gerard where his brother was now, and whether or no he was still with his soldier. He wished he could tell him that right now his heart was pounding in his chest, and that Gerard’s face had a whimsical beauty, despite its age, and that even softened by tears, Frank still thought he was-   
He took a mental break, shying inches from admitting it to himself. Not here. Not now.   
The sound of an alarm saved him. It was sharp and tinny, and came from a small electric clock on Gerard’s desk. The Priest cleared his throat, swiping at his eyes as he turned it off. Frank forced himself to step back, but it was almost as if his legs rejected the movement.   
“You can leave, Frank. Thank you,” Gerard said softly, reaching out and taking the boy’s hand in his own. That one gesture made the decision for him, and Frank found himself shaking his head.   
“No. No, Father. I…I want to stay,” he said softly. He waited a moment, before allowing his eyes to flick up to Gerard’s. His heart squeezed at the soft, adoring smile the other man was giving him.   
“I’d like you to stay with me,” he breathed.   
Neither of them commented on the phrasing. Neither of them cared to.

During the service, Frank sat in the back pew, where nobody would notice him. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed to be there, it was more that he wanted to be able to _focus_ without the fear that someone was going to approach him.   
And, okay, maybe he was a little bit embarrassed.

Gerard, presumably, took a few moments to calm himself before he walked out, smiling softly at the crowd. He looked so different than he had only moments before. Gone were any traces of softness or weakness – he looked powerful. It was almost terrifying, the power that seemed to ebb from his every pore. Frank had never seen him like this and, admittedly, it was…kind of hot.   
Frank shook the thought away, reminding himself firmly of who he was thinking about, and where he was.   
As the man spoke, his voice shook with the forcefulness of his words, as psalms like symphonies rolled from his tongue, like he’d said them a thousand times, like they were tattooed onto his ribs.   
And, God, maybe they were. All Frank knew was that, in the hour or so in which he watched the Priest speak, he’d never heard of anyone so sure of themselves. Gerard didn’t just _believe_ in his faith – he _was_ his faith. Every inch of him was laced with intricate divinity that, for a moment, he borrowed, to pour over his congregation.   
Looking around, Frank saw that nobody else seemed to be surprised by Gerard’s sincerity, but there was a general, psychic agreement of peace and belief.   
And it was then; in that place of truth and love, and ultimate happiness that Frank finally let that truth wash over him.   
Gerard was beautiful.  Not like the men in the magazines, or the girls he sometimes fell in love with on long train journeys. He wasn’t sexy, or sensual. If he hit on Frank in a bar, the younger man would scoff and curse him.  
But that was the thing. Gerard wouldn’t do that. Gerard was beautiful in the way that flowers are beautiful when they’re in full bloom, or the sky when it hits morning and you realise you’ve been up all night. Gerard was beautiful in the way that acoustic guitars are beautiful when they echo on the tiled walls of subway stations. He was the sun that shone through the stained glass window that shone patterns of light onto his face even though it was broken. And without realising it, Frank had created the best metaphor for the man he could ever imagine.  
The moment hit him harder than any religious experience he could have described. But straight after that truth, came another.   
Frank could never, ever tell him.

Before he knew it, the service was ending, and the people of his town were filing past him. He could see his own parents approaching and made a soft noise of despair.   
He let out a breath and promptly ducked behind the pew, his legs curled up to his chest. He heard the conversations of the people around them, and was only vaguely surprised that they weren’t in awe of Gerard.   
Of course, that probably had more to do with the fact that they’d been seeing him every week for the last few months.

Frank heard the footsteps die away, but kept his head down, just in case.   
He only looked up when he saw black shoes in front of him.  
“Well, I mean. Normally people enjoy the service from the pews. How was it down here?” came Gerard’s amused voice. Frank looked up, and immediately blushed because – oh. He was definitely at eye-level with Gerard’s crotch.   
Not only that, but Gerard had almost definitely noticed the blush.   
And while all these thoughts were going through Frank’s head, he was still on his knees.   
“I…oh,” he breathed, looking up at Gerard’s face. The Priest looked confused, and slightly uncomfortable.   
Well, fuckin’ great.   
Frank grasped the pew and dragged himself to his feet, swallowing hard, rubbing the back of his neck. Gerard’s hands were clasped behind his back, mostly so the younger boy couldn’t tell he was sweating.  
This kid was going to send him to Hell. Gerard just knew it.   
“That was a good service, Father,” Frank said softly. Gerard’s smile in response was tight-lipped, but genuine.   
“Thank you, Frank. I’m…I’m really glad you stayed,” he said, his voice softening. Frank gave a gentle, one-armed shrug.   
“I am, too. I mean. I can’t say I learned a whole lot. But it was nice,” he said. Gerard snorted, rolling his eyes.   
“I’m…not even going to comment,” he laughed, “c’mon. Help me outta this robe,”   
He turned and walked back up the aisle. It was only then that Frank processed that Gerard didn’t have his cane with him. He didn’t mention it, though, until they were back in the vestry, and Gerard had his back to him.   
“Um, Father?” Frank asked softly, hands working at the buttons. Gerard made a soft noise of recognition, prompting him to continue.   
“Don’t you need to use your cane all the time?”   
“No, not all the time. I don’t like to use it when I’m performing a service. I like to think that-“ he broke off, shaking his head.   
“What?” Frank asked, a smile pulling at his lips.   
“Nothing. It’s-“  
“Please?”   
“I just…I like to think that God will help me stand during those times. And I really believe that he does.  I don’t feel weak, or vulnerable. I feel-“  
“Powerful,” Frank breathed, undoing the final button. Gerard turned around and smiled softly.   
“Yeah. That’s it,” he murmured.   
The two men stood for a moment, staring at each other with wide, curious eyes, like they weren’t sure how to approach each other.   
“Why did you…tell me what you told me?” Frank finally asked. Gerard took the robe from the floor and hung it up, sighing softly. He laughed, shaking his head.   
“I guess…I guess I did it because I wanted to,” he admitted, “is that okay?”   
Frank smiled, nodding  
“It’s okay. I’m glad you told me. I’m glad you…trust me enough to tell me.” He was very aware of how soft and _soppy_ his voice sounded, but there wasn’t too much to do about that.   
The look on Gerard’s face was positively enamoured.  
“You’re a good person, Frank. I’m…enjoying our time together,” Gerard admitted.   
That would have been a good time (if there were ever a good time) for Frank to just _tell_ Gerard that he was…ridiculously infatuated with him. The whole moment was so warm and comfortable. It would have been _perfect_.   
He didn’t, though. He just took a little step back – feeling the atmosphere shatter around him as he did – and smiled.   
“Thanks, Father. I’m glad I can help you out,”   
It was a cop-out, and they both knew it. Gerard let out a short, frustrated breath. But ultimately, he supposed he was grateful.   
“You should go,” he said, not unkindly. Frank nodded.  
“I should go.”


	5. Chapter 5

“ _Harder,”_ Gerard gasped through gritted teeth, his body lurching forward. Frank panted, his nails forming claws as they pushed down.

“I’m trying. Fuck,” Frank hissed, his body tensing as he pushed forward, his legs actually beginning to tremble with the effort as his muscles tightened, burning ever so slightly in soft protest of his hard movements.

“Language,” Gerard muttered, his eyes sliding shut as he moved slightly forward again, his shoes squeaking a little on the newly polished floor of the Church. Frank snorted, even despite his situation.

“Father? You really think now is the time to warn me about language?” he scoffed. Gerard turned to give him a dark look, his own muscles having seized up a while ago.

“C’mon, Frank. Almost there,” he gasped, eyes closing. His breath came hard, a thin sheen of sweat coating his body, making his black shirt stick to his skin in clingy strands.   
Finally, it happened. With a resolving _bang,_ the large bookshelf they’d been moving smacked back against the wall. Gerard mopped at his head with a cloth, breathing more steadily as he looked at it.

“You said the wind did that?” Frank asked, arching an eyebrow. He wasn’t entirely surprised – it had been very heavy the night before. But he didn’t think it was hard enough to knock over an entire book case.   
Gerard just nodded, leaning back on his pulpit. The skin on his knuckles stretched tightly over the bone as he struggled to keep himself upright. It was only at that point that Frank remembered that the man needed assistance, and rushed to his side.   
Frank wrapped an arm around Gerard’s waist, encouraging him to lean a little on him. The smell of his sweat was overpowering for only a moment, and wasn’t particularly potent. Frank couldn’t imagine that he smelled a hell of a lot better.

Frank led Gerard back into the vestry, helping him to sit in the small chair, before leaning back against the wall. Gerard peered up at him, a sheepish expression on his face.

“Sorry, Frank, for making you come out here on your day off.  I just didn’t know who else to contact – I don’t have many friends in the town and –

“It’s fine, Father. Really. I wasn’t doing much anyway,” he assured him gently. Gerard looked at him for a moment, as if considering something, before trying to rise to his feet.

“No, no. I’ll pay you for it,” he said softly, struggling a little. When he did manage to stand, his body trembled to the point of almost collapsing. Frank sighed and helped him back into his chair, looking concerned, but only softly so.   
Something he’d learned about Gerard is that the man hated pity. If he thought he was being pitied, he’d only act more stubborn, and probably end up getting himself hurt. At the thought, Frank glanced at the bandage on Gerard’s hand from where he said that he could nail the new cross above the pulpit all on his own. Needless to say, it hadn’t gone well.   
That’s not to say, by any stretch, that Gerard was helpless. Frank had, in his short time with him, seen him perform things that Frank had never previously thought someone in his condition could. Perhaps that was his own incorrect assumption, or Gerard’s will. He tended to think it was both.

“Gerard, please. A _bookshelf_ almost crushed you. They’d have to give you all sorts of prosthetics if that happened, y’know,” he said with a soft smile, getting a glass and moving to the sink. “You’d be like robo-priest,”  
Gerard sorted at that, accepting (even now with a hint of reluctance) the glass Frank handed to him.

“I’d have thought you were too young for that reference,” he said coolly, taking a sip of water. Frank arched his eyebrow, leaning against the wall again.

“Robocop? Dude, everyone knows Robocop. You elitist old man,” he teased. Gerard scoffed, taking a larger gulp of water, before setting the glass aside.

“Have you actually seen it?”

“Yes! Of course I have. Gerard Way, you insult me,” Frank sniffed, turning his nose up. It was very possible, though, for the older man to see the way his lips twitched in amusement.

“Have you seen the original, though? The remake doesn’t count,” Gerard said firmly. Frank’s face could be seen to drop, and Gerard felt the satisfying rush of relief one gets when they know they’ve put their opponent in a corner. He was competitive like that.   
Frank looked at him and shook his head, a mockingly scornful look on his face.

“I thought pride was a sin?” Frank pointed out, jutting a hip out. To his surprise, Gerard actually laughed, looking at Frank with great amusement. The amount of attention made the other man blush.

“A lot of things are sins, Frankie. Lots of things. Almost everything, if you take the scripture literally,” he said, shrugging. He slid his hands along his thighs as he thought, before speaking again; “you just…have to decide what’s worth going down for,” he murmured. Frank raised his eyebrows.

“So that’s it? We’re all going to Hell?” Frank asked incredulously  - and with shock. “That’s pretty nihilistic for a Priest,”

“I mean…yes and no. I think if you’re genuinely apologetic, The Lord will forgive. But who really apologises for their sins selflessly?” he raised his eyebrows. “No, I think Heaven’s real hard to get into. So most of us are going to Hell. Probably,”

“Jesus, Father. That’s fuckin’ dark,” Frank said, chewing his lip. There was something that seemed vaguely haunted about his expression. Frank didn’t push for an explanation.

“I guess so. And maybe I’m just feeling sorry for myself. It’s just…this life is hard. My whole world is built on telling myself that I’m wrong. Everything I do is wrong, even when my heart is pure. That’s not right. That can’t be right.” He was more talking to himself than to Frank at this point, so the other was hesitant to respond. There was something, Frank realised, that Gerard was struggling with. Something he hadn’t told him.  
Perhaps that idea shouldn’t have made him nervous, but it did. He was probably just projecting – but what if Gerard _felt it_ too? That sudden, unexplainable attraction that had gripped him, without thought or reason? Even though every inch of his body screamed that this was senseless – too soon, too much – he couldn’t ignore it. God, what if Gerard felt it too?

“I know what you mean,” Frank said gently, looking at him pointedly. Gerard laughed, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair.

“You don’t. My God, you don’t,” he said weakly, his fingers shaking as the black strands fell through them. In the dim light of the vestry, Frank could see the glint of the silvery hairs that snuck into the jet black. He was struck, then, by how _old_ Gerard was. Each feature was adorned by swirls of wrinkles, his face drooping in parts where it may have before been taught. Even his jawline was weakening, a thick mound of skin and fat covering the sharp bone.   
Frank, all at once, felt a wave of repulsion. Not for the man, nor for his coffee-stained teeth; but for himself. How could he let this happen? How the _Hell_ did he start dreaming about this…crumbling house of a man?   
Frank swallowed hard.

“I guess I don’t,” he agreed.   
Gerard looked equal parts disappointed and relieved, and Frank couldn’t help but feel at least a little bit bad. 

The silence that stretched between them for moments after that was almost too heavy to bear. Frank found himself searching his mind for something to say –anything, damn it, to get that look off of Gerard’s face.   
When he realised that he actually did have a fairly pressing question to ask, he almost gasped. 

“Father?” he said gently. Gerard jumped a little, the water in his cup splashing onto his trousers, leaving a vague wet patch. He clicked his tongue in annoyance before glancing up at Frank.

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something? “ Frank asked, leaning forward. Gerard, to Frank’s surprise (that man, it seemed, was full of them) seemed very amused.

“Other than what you just asked?” he asked in a teasing tone. Frank snorted and rolled his eyes, giving Gerard a fond, exasperated smile.

“Yes.”

“Then yes. What’s on your mind?” he asked, long, thin fingers playing absently with his dog collar. Frank did his very best to not watch the movement, no matter how badly he wanted to.

“When you were talking about your brother the other day, you mentioned that you prayed for him to be forgiven by God for…y’know. Being with his soldier,” he began, looking up at Gerard for clarification. The older man nodded.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Well, um. What did you mean by that? I mean…I don’t know. Do you hate gay guys or somethin’?” he asked. Somewhere, he was certain Gerard _didn’t,_ but he couldn’t help but worry. That, at least, would put an end to their blossoming friendship. There was a lot Frank could handle, but bigotry wasn’t one of those things.    
Gerard’s expression looked genuinely pained, and Frank found himself fearing the answer that would come.

“I…I don’t _hate_ anyone,” he said weakly. Frank’s heart fell. Oh god. This was going to be it. Gerard was going to prove himself to just be another religion-crazed, judgemental jerks that Frank encountered during his time through the Catholic school system. Great.

“But?”

“But nothing. I don’t hate anyone. And – I certainly don’t hate people for who they love,” Gerard said firmly. Something that Frank couldn’t quite define flashed in Gerard’s eyes for a moment, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

“But the Bible says-

“What the Bible says and what I think are different things. Some people say that impure thoughts are sinful – but I can’t agree. Our thoughts don’t make us who we are – our choices do. I could think about a sin, even consider it. But unless I _do_ it – it’s not a sin. So, to me, being gay isn’t a sin. And if I’m going to Hell for that, then so be it.” His voice was firm, full of resolve, and Frank was genuinely stumped for a moment.

“That’s…actually a relief,” Frank admitted, tapping his heel against the wall. Gerard looked at him warmly.

“You’re always welcome here, Frank. I’m not making any…assumptions. But no matter what, you’re always welcome with –“ he paused, biting his lip, “you’re always welcome in this Church,” he said hastily. Frank smiled, blushing softly.

“Thank you, Father,” he murmured. Gerard was quiet for a second, his eyes focused on a spot on the floor.

“And with me,” he said finally. Frank looked up, taking a moment to recollect the previous conversation in his mind.

“Father?”

“You’re always welcome with me. No matter what,” he said, as if the statement was entirely normal and not at all complicated. Frank smiled, his expression a softer version of the one on Gerard’s face.

“You’re welcome with me too,” he almost whispered. His words were filled with an unspoken promise that didn’t go unnoticed by Gerard. It did go unmentioned, though.


	6. Chapter 6

“So I was talking to Father Way yesterday” said Frank’s mother one morning. They were sitting at the breakfast table as they often did on Saturday mornings in some desperate bid to seem ‘close’ or ‘conventional.   
The statement came seemingly from nowhere, and made Frank choke a little on his cereal.

“Oh? Uh. Who’s that?” he asked nervously, wiping his hand on his jeans. His mother looked at him and cocked an eyebrow in a way that very clearly said “I’m not buying what you’re selling, kid.” She shrugged, poking at her eggs with her fork.

“I think you’ve met him. Tall, dark hair, walks with a cane, talks out of one side of his mouth,” she said almost flippantly, gesturing with her fork. She gave Frank a dark, thoughtful look.   
“He had a lot to say about you,” she said. Frank cleared his throat, face burning as he looked down at his cereal.

“Yeah? Like what?” he asked. This was it. Gerard had probably told Frank’s mother about the window. He’d told her that Frank was a delinquent and that he couldn’t be trusted.   
Frank couldn’t help but feel a pang of betrayal. He’d really thought they’d been getting close to being friends. Hell, he hung out with him now about as equally as his actual friends. After Church, it was now customary for Frank to go to Gerard’s house for tea. He’d never have thought that he’d want that sort of thing, previously, but it was actually a lot of fun. Frank liked watching Gerard transform from his serious priestly role, into a funny, affectionate, warm man with a very specific love for comic books from the 70s and bad horror movies.  He even found himself missing their time together when he was away from him, which both excited and worried him.   
His mother’s voice snapped him back into reality.

“I didn’t know you’d been helping him out around the Church,” she said simply, arching an eyebrow suspiciously.  “It’s out of character for you.”   
Frank felt a wave of relief. Gerard hadn’t told his Mother a damn thing. Frank smiled.

“I…it’s a school thing,” he stammered “y’know, community service. Helping the elderly. All that stuff,”  he said quickly, impressed with the fluidity of his own lie. His mother raised her eyebrows, looking amused.

“Father Way isn’t that old, Frank,” she chided softly. Frank shrugged.

“He looks old,” he said, the second lie flowing off his lips just as easily as the first. If not more so, because he’d been trying to convince himself of this one for weeks now.  It could have almost been the truth if he’d only believed it.

 

Frank stood up after a moment and began to clean out his bowl, watching the individual pieces of cereal slide down the drain. It was oddly hypnotic, but he knew it was his brain intentionally distracting him from the problem at hand.   
Things were getting difficult with Gerard, and it was far past the time when Frank could be dishonest with himself about it. The man drove him crazy in all the best and worst ways. The power in his voice when he preached, his gentle laugh, the way he looked at Frank like he was sunshine rising over a hill at dawn. It was wonderful and it was killing him, all at the same time. The worst part was, he supposed, that he couldn’t really tell anyone. Nobody, at least, that wouldn’t judge him for it. His friends – specifically Mia, who had catlike intuition -  knew there was something up with him, but couldn’t _tell_ them. He was old and he was a Priest. Those two things alone were enough to make him regret this. But he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop it –and at this point, he didn’t even think he wanted to. He was never one to get interested in people this quickly – but he couldn’t help himself. Gerard was so pure, so wonderful. He’d never met anyone like him. He was endlessly powerful, but then he’d ruin it by saying something dorky and right there, Frank would fall for that idiot all over again.   
Not fall for. That wasn’t right. It hadn’t got to that point – it was just a crush. A stupid crush.  He’d get over it as soon as his damn community service was over.   
The idea made him both relieved and pained.

 

Crisis temporarily shoved to the back of his mind, Frank forced himself to focus on the day before him. The whole gang had been called to Mia’s place for an emergency band meeting.  
He couldn’t say that the word ‘emergency’ made him at all wary – the last emergency meeting had been because Cooter’s guitar strings had broken and the whole band needed to chip in to buy him new ones. Frank wasn’t entirely sure what awful fate could really meet a band that hadn’t even played a live gig yet. Still, he treated the situation very delicately and carefully, and focused his mind on whatever it was they might say to him. He figured he owed them that, he guessed.

By the time Frank arrived, the other band members were already gathered in Mia’s garage, clearly waiting for him to arrive. Cooter was gently strumming his guitar, while Damien and Daniel spoke quietly to each other in the corner. Mia, for one, looked excited. She was practically bouncing out of her seat, a wide smile plastered across her face. It was cute, if you liked that sort of thing. Frank could normally forget that she was a couple years younger than him, but when she got excited, she got this whimsical glow in her cheeks that made her look childish and very sweet.  
Although, since Frank liked his balls in-tact, he didn’t mention that to her, or anyone else for that matter.   
Frank approached her and raised an eyebrow.

“Someone’s excited,” he pointed out. The brightness dimmed from her face for long enough for her to scowl at him, before the grin set back on her face.

“Shut up and sit down,” she said, standing up. It was almost funny, the way all the guys did as she told them to within seconds. They too, apparently, liked their balls where they were.   
Once she had everyone’s attention, she stood up on her chair and beamed.

“What’s this about, Princess?” Cooter asked lazily, leaning back in his seat. Mia bit her lip, as if to stifle the words. It seemed that way even more when they eventually burst from her.

“We have a gig!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.   
Frank felt a rush of genuine excitement. A gig? For real? Someone actually wanted them to play with them? The idea seemed almost ridiculous. He slowly noticed the guys around him reacting to the news. Even Daniel seemed exuberant.

“Shit. That’s amazing,” Damien said, breaking the silence.

“Whose daughter did you bang to get this one, kid?” Cooter teased, trying to play off his excitement. Mia glared at him and popped a hip.

“No one’s, thank you very much. Actually, I was sort of confused. They came to me and offered us the space…they’re even gonna pay us” she said, shaking her head.

“What? Who? Did you show them our music?” Damien asked. Mia gave a little shrug.

“I mean, I played him a couple songs from my phone, but he didn’t seem that interested. He just offered us the space and stuff. He even said he’d cover all the advertisement stuff – isn’t that weird?” she said, biting her lip. Cooter raised his eyebrows.

“That is weird. Very weird. Who was it? You sure he’s legit?” he asked. Mia sat down in her chair.

“I assume so. It’s that new Priest. Father West or somet-

“Father Way,” Frank cut in immediately, his cheeks burning. The group turned to him, each giving him a different look, but all unanimously saying ‘what the hell?’   
Mia cleared her throat.

“Um. Yeah, Father Way. He said he wants us to play there next Saturday night. He’s gonna put an ad for it in the paper and get a bunch of people in. He said he’ll pay us like, 20 bucks each,”

“What about ticket costs? Y’know, the money we make from it. You think we’ll get that?” Cooter asked, already searching for some sort of plot hole. Mia shrugged, and it was Frank that answered, a lump in his throat.

“No. He’s gonna save it, I think. For the Church window,” he mumbled, his face paling. Damien looked over at him, his face a mask of concern.

“Frankie? Are you okay?” he asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. It was the touch that broke him out of it, and Frank smiled, nodding weakly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just real excited,” he said, handing out unconvincing smiles all around. He could tell by the looks on their faces that they didn’t buy it, but he also knew that they wouldn’t ask any further. They were pretty good at letting him deal with his own stuff. In that sense, he was lucky.   
In every other sense – not so much.

 

Once the band was dismissed, having discussed rehearsal times for the next week, Frank walked a down to the park that lay between Mia’s house and the Church. The sun was high in the sky, illuminating the steel bars around the field, each blade of grass glistening like a field of emeralds.   
Frank felt like his feet were leading him forward without his own conscious consent as he approached a bench, his body sliding down onto it. Once he was sat down, he crumpled in half, putting his face in his hands.   
He wasn’t an idiot. He could see what was happening. Gerard was hosting a charity concert event to get money for the window so Frank wouldn’t have to stick around anymore. Gerard didn’t want Frank around anymore.

“Fuck,” Frank whispered, sitting up a little and rubbing his hands over his face. Had he done something wrong? Had he offended him in some way? Frank couldn’t think of a single thing he could have done to provoke this.   
No, wait, scratch that. Yes he did. He could dance around it all he liked, but he knew that the issue here was his damn infatuation. Gerard had clearly picked up on it, and it was making him so uncomfortable that he didn’t even want Frank around anymore. The realisation of this fell on Frank even more heavily than the initial truth of his attraction.

“God damn it,” he breathed. As far as he could see, he had two options at this point. He could go to Gerard, confront him about the gig, ask him what was wrong. Or he could observe. He had to go help him out with a service the next day – he might as well just wait and see if anything seemed unusual. Then, and only then, would he take any form of action against the man.   
Having decided that, and with a heavy heart, he stood and walked back home. He could have kept walking down the lane and come to the Church and – by association – the small home next to it. But he couldn’t bring himself to do so, so he walked away, abandoning the building that cut the sky like a crucifix-shaped knife.

 

The next morning, Frank was both eager and reluctant to go to Church. Eager, because he had the opportunity to see Gerard.   
He was reluctant, though, for the same reason. 

Frank got ready with an air of trepidation about him that was entirely tangible even to himself.   
That’s why, when his Mother asked him delicately if he was feeling okay, Frank wasn’t even slightly surprised. He knew he must look like a hurricane in human form. At the very least, that’s how he felt.

“I’m fine, Mom. I’m just…I don’t know. Feeling weird,” he mumbled, zipping up his jacket. His Mother arched an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe.

“You don’t have to go, Frankie. Father Way will understand. He’s not going to hate you because you didn’t turn up to one session. I can explain-

“No, Ma. It’s fine, really. I wanna go. Maybe being with all that religious crap will make me feel better,” he said with a weak smile. His mother looked suitably uncertain, but nodded.

“If you’re ready soon I can drive you,” she said simply, before sweeping out of the room. As soon as she was gone, Frank plopped down onto his bed, curling up like he had the day before on the bench. This was too much. He was so nervous. His heart slammed in his chest like a stampede of zebra being chased by a lion.   
Gerard, of course, being the lion. It was an almost amusing comparison – what, with Gerard being so meek and holy. But Frank wasn’t afraid of him because he thought he’d actually harm him. He just knew he could hurt him. In some ways, that was worse than falling victim to a lion’s jaws. At least it seemed so.

 

In the end, Frank declined his Mother’s offer for a ride, instead choosing to walk the distance to the Church. It allowed him to clear his head, breathing in the fresh air deeply and reminding himself that, no matter what happened today, he was _alive._ The mantra faded as he approached the Church, but he clung to it anyway.   
It dissolved entirely when he saw that Gerard was already there, unlocking the door.   
Frank approached him slowly, his heart pounding in his ears.

“Good Morning, Father,” Frank said softly. Gerard turned around, and the look on his face made Frank’s stomach drop. It was a look of pure disdain and disappointment. He tried to clear it from his face a moment later, but it was already too late. Frank knew the truth.

“Frank. I didn’t think you’d be here,” Gerard said, his voice shaking slightly. His hand fumbled with the key for a moment, making it drop to the floor. He clicked his tongue and made to grab it, but Frank got there first, holding it out to him.

“No? Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked nervously. Gerard made a soft noise of what Frank assumed to be thanks as he turned back to unlock the door. He was silent until there was a solid click and the door opened. He turned back to Frank.

“Your friend told you about the gig, right?”   
Frank’s blood ran cold, his heart pounding so hard, he was almost certain Gerard could hear it. He swallowed hard before he replied, not trusting his voice to be even.

“She did. And thank you. But why does that mean I shouldn’t come here anymore?”  He knew he was supposed to be playing it cool, but he was nervous. The words came blurting out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Aren’t we friends?”   
Gerard paused, hand on the door, and looked at Frank with wide, almost terrified eyes.

“Friends? Frank. No, that’s… we get along well, I know. But we’re not friends,” he said softly, his voice barely audible. What killed Frank the most was the way his voice was soft, but his words were sharp and deadly.

“I just meant… I-

“I don’t need your help anymore, Frank. You’ve been more trouble than help. You’re late, you’re lazy and…and you’re a distraction.” The last words were the only ones that Gerard felt were entirely honest. But hopefully, Frank believed every single one.   
Luckily (or rather, unluckily) for Gerard, he did. Frank blinked fast to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes. He felt stupid and used.

“I…I’m sorry, Father. I never meant to-

“I know. God, Frank, I know you never meant for any of this to happen. Neither did I. But you have to go, okay? Just trust me. You have to leave. With that gig, we’ll make enough money to repair the window, and we can leave it there,” his voice seemed almost desperate. He looked up at Frank with wide, apologetic eyes.   
Frank bit his bottom lip and looked down at his feet.

“If that’s what you want, Father,”

“It is.”

“Okay. I’ll go. Thanks for…everything, I guess. Um. I’ll see you Saturday,” he said weakly, backing away from the Church.   
He didn’t look up as he turned around and walked away. Gerard never took his eyes off of him – not until he vanished over the hill. It was only then that he shut the Church door and, with a heavy heart, began the duties that had been Frank’s.   



	7. Chapter 7

The week of preparing, practicing and anticipation hadn’t really been enough to keep Frank occupied from what he could only describe as the most confusing job dismissal ever. It felt, to him, vaguely like a heartbreak, but he didn’t ever say that out loud, and tried to drown it out the way he would with any intrusive thought: he ignored it.   
Supposedly, Frank thought, the best way to get over a burning rejection was to avoid talking or thinking about it at all costs, but it seemed, recently, that Father Way was all his friends could talk about. They spoke of how generous he was, how kind, how selfless, and all Frank could think of was the way his eyes seemed to project the galaxies onto the Church floor, or the psalms that Frank was sure were etched along every orifice in his mouth, so when he spoke, it was soft and true and infallibly pure.

It wasn’t even enough that the band wouldn’t shut up about him. Being in a small town as he was, Frank was familiar with the seismic tremors that spread through the community whenever something of interest occurred – and Father Way endorsing a punk concert in his Church was certainly something of interest.   
Being the centre of that interest, Frank had to talk about Gerard a lot – which didn’t help at all with the whole ‘ignoring him’ situation.

“So like, did you guys ask for the gig?”   
Asked Tammy – a fairly well-meaning girl in Frank’s English class. The group were sitting together at lunch, and she had actually walked across the cafeteria to ask them.   
This town really was stupidly small.

“Nope, he called my Dad and offered it to us,” Mia said proudly, for maybe the thousandth time. Tammy smiled – this clearly confirming the scandalous story she’d already heard.

“Wow. That’s so generous. He seems so nice,” she said almost dreamily. There was something in her tone that didn’t sit right with Frank. Maybe it was the last straw, but he could almost feel himself snap.

“He’s not nice, he’s an asshole. He didn’t give us the gig to be kind, he did it to fix his stupid window, because he’s a selfish, lying, inconsiderate asshole,” he hissed, fingers gripping the table.   
Tammy, and all of Frank’s friends, had expressions that varied between concern and pure horror.

“Dude. You can’t talk about a Priest like that. That’s not right,” Damien mumbled, glancing up. Frank’s cheeks flushed and, before anyone could say another word, he rose to his feet and rushed out of the cafeteria.   
Luckily, he was collected enough to know where he was going, and found himself moments later pressed up against the brick wall of the school, looking out at the smoking area. Most of the students and staff were inside having lunch, so Frank was one of maybe six people in the area.  He shakily reached into his jacket, fumbling with the pack in his pocket.

“Hey, I agree that you fucked up, but no need to gag on smoke, Iero,”   
came Mia’s familiar voice from beside him. He let his eyes slide shut as he slid a cigarette between his lips.

“How bad is it?”

“The rumours have already started. My favourite is that you caught him fucking your Mom,” she said. The solemn way in which she said it only made it more amusing, and if Frank had been in any position to, he’d probably have laughed.

“Do I have to explain myself?” he asked softly, taking a deep pull, still not looking at her. Mia sighed gently.

“You know you don’t ever have to, with me. But am I curious to know why my best friend hates the local Priest so much? You bet I am,” she said gently. Frank knew she meant it, too. Mia had never been one to pressure him into anything – that was probably why he told her so much. He did it because he wanted to, not because he felt like he had to.

“Um. I love him,” he said gently. He was surprised by the ease with which the words slid from his lips, considering he’d never said them before – not even to himself. Afterwards, he often thought that it was in that moment, smoking outside the school with his best friend, that he really realised it. Now that he didn’t have the option of seeing the kind face, the warm eyes, he realised how much he needed to.   
Mia, unsurprisingly, was only vaguely phased.

“You love him? I didn’t realise you even knew him,” she said gently. Mia was good at getting people to talk – she always had been. She handled information like a baby bird; delicately, but with a firm deliberance. It’s why she always knew so much.

“After I broke his window, we arranged that I’d go to the Church every Sunday and help him out with jobs. And…and Mia, he’s so _nice_. I’ve never known anyone so genuine. And he’s funny, too, and he’s actually into some cool stuff. I mean,  I even find him attractive now. He’s this…greying old Priest, with one leg and a cane, and I still think the Sun shines out of his ass. Jesus… Jesus, Mia. I love him,” he said, his hands beginning to tremble by the end. The look on Mia’s face was one of genuine pity, and something else Frank couldn’t quite place – fondness, perhaps.

“That’s…so sweet, Frankie. I’m happy for you. But uh, if he’s so wonderful, why is he a selfish asshole?” she asked softly, her  fingertips dancing gently against the brick wall. Frank let out a harsh laugh, biting his lip.

“I went over there on Sunday, like I was supposed to, and he basically told me to fuck off. He told me that he gave us this gig so he could make enough money to fix the window, and that he didn’t need me anymore. He didn’t…want me anymore,” Frank mumbled. He wrapped his free arm around himself; a weak attempt at comforting himself. Mia made a noise similar to one you’d make if you saw someone who’d tried to cut off their own finger and failed – a sort of hiss of acknowledging pain, and confusion.

“Well, there goes my thinking that we were actually good enough to get a gig,” she muttered to herself. Frank actually smiled at that, shaking his head.

“We _are_ good enough, Mia. Fuck him, okay? Let’s just forget all about him. He’s a manipulative asshole. He wants a punk show? We’ll give that son of a bitch a punk show,” he grinned. Mia smiled, leaning against him with a content sigh.

“You’re not bad, Iero,” she mumbled. It was a favourite phrase of hers, and pretty much the only verbal affection she gave. Frank ruffled her hair, giving a soft, but genuine smile.

“Thanks, Princess. You’re alright too,” he said, winking at her.

The two stood in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Mia occasionally taking pulls of the next two cigarettes Frank lit, just to pass the time.   
The smoking area soon flooded with people who’d finished their lunch, and Mia made the declaration that they should go find their group.   
As they walked back inside, though, Mia put a hand on Frank’s arm.

“Frankie. You’re good enough too, okay?” she said gently.  
Frank knew better than to reply, lest he face a dead arm and a nasty bruise, but he gave her a fond smile nonetheless.

 

Frank thought he’d be ready for Saturday. He’d spent all of Friday night with Mia, practicing how he’d talk, how he’d move, how disconnected and cold he’d be. He was going to make Gerard regret ever rejecting him. He was going to make the older man want him – but he couldn’t have him. Not anymore. Frank was over him, with his chubby stomach and coffee-breath and grey-streaked hair. He was boring and old, and Frank didn’t need him.   
That was his mantra that morning as he walked to the Church, his guitar slung over his back. He looked good and he knew it – his hair gently spiked, eyeliner around his eyes, a loose Danzig shirt hanging from his thin form. He looked _amazing_. He actually strutted to the Church in time to his music. He was fire. Nobody could touch him. 

That was until he actually got to the Church.   
He saw his friends in a group outside and, to his dismay, Gerard was standing there, talking animatedly and excitedly to them.    
It was fine, though. He could do this. He didn’t need him.   
He walked towards them, a bright smile on his face and a voice in his head screaming ‘ _don’t look at him.’_  
And he didn’t. He greeted his friends cheerfully, and almost pointedly said nothing to Gerard.   
The older man, though, just seemed amused. He cleared his throat and smiled.

“Hello, Frank. It’s good to see you,” he said fondly. Frank felt a shiver run down his back. He knew he couldn’t just ignore him. That would be rude. He turned around and offered a weak smile. The man still looked old and overweight, and Frank desperately tried to remind himself of that. Even as he felt the warmth spreading through his chest.   
He tried to remain cool, though.

“Oh. Hi Father,” he said, his tone dull and blasé. Gerard bit his lip to hide a smile, his eyes glimmering with amusement.

“Are you excited for this evening?” Gerard asked, as if nothing was going on. The only thing that gave him away was the mischievous look in his eyes. Frank shrugged, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, I mean. Sure. It’ll be fine,” he sighed. Gerard rolled his eyes, still chuckling softly. He looked him over.

“You look real good,”   
There it was. That yanked Frank out of his façade faster than he thought possible. His eyes widened as he stared up at him.

“Y-you think so?” he stammered, his heart pounding in his chest. Gerard was –albeit intentionally- looking at Frank like a piece of meat, and nothing had ever aroused him more. Frank strategically shifted his shirt a little lower, just in case.

“I do,” Gerard purred. Then, all at once, he stepped back and smiled at the rest of the group. “So I’ve got you guys set up inside, if you wanna come check it out. Let me know what you think,” he said, his tone once again light and friendly. Frank just stared, his eyes wide, until Mia grabbed his sleeve and tugged him in behind her.

“Did you see that?” he hissed. Mia looked back, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“See what?” 

 

A couple hours, two tubes of eyeliner and half a can of hairspray later, the band waited behind the curtain to their makeshift stage. The gentle murmurs of the crowd filling the Church reverberated off the walls, and did nothing at all to soothe Frank’s nerves. His guitar felt too heavy as it rested around his shoulders, his hands shaking so much that he wasn’t even certain if he could play.

“Frankie. Calm,” Mia murmured, putting a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t miss, though, that she was trembling too.

“I’m not nervous. It’s fine,” he muttered, turning his attention to making sure that his guitar was correctly tuned. To his dismay, it was, and he lost the opportunity for a distraction.  

“You are. Is it about the show, or is it about-“ she glanced over to Gerard. The Priest was still wearing his normal uniform, but it seemed more relaxed somehow. Maybe it was the fact that he was just leaning against the wall, his hand lightly twirling his cane on the floor. Frank sighed.

“Neither. Both? I don’t know,” he admitted. She smiled fondly and squeezed his hand. She checked her watch and moved back.

“It’s time to go on, sport,” she said simply, moving towards the rest of the band to get them ready. Frank sighed, dropping his eyes to the floor. He didn’t want to do this. Not here, not with-

“Hey, cheer up,” Gerard said gently from behind him. He placed a warm hand on the younger man’s shoulder. Frank glanced around, willing himself not to look into his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said simply. Gerard didn’t move his hand, but he did gently rub his thumb along Frank’s shoulder.

“You don’t look it,”

“I thought I looked good?” he asked mockingly, a bitter edge to his tone. Gerard blushed softly, a smirk crossing his face.

“You do,” he murmured. Frank faltered for a moment, but nodded, turning towards the stage.

“Okay. Well. Thanks,” he mumbled. He tried desperately to remember that he was angry at the older man. Gerard was silent for a moment, before taking an uneasy step towards Frank.

“Hey, Frankie?” he called. Frank half turned towards him, but didn’t respond. “Um. Good luck.”

 

The show was wonderful. There was no denying that. Each part worked perfectly, the music was tight and well-done. Sure, it wasn’t like Queen were playing in the Church Hall, and the acoustics weren’t amazing, but the teenagers did what they could with what they were given, and what they did was great. Most of the band looked out and saw their friends, families and neighbours looking happily surprised, bobbing along to the swell of the music. Only one member of the band disconnected entirely from the experience, and that was Frank. He knew that if he tried to look up, all he’d do was make eye contact with the Holy hypocrite that wavered in the corner of his vision. And fuck, if he did that, he’d probably miss a note or break a string or something. He couldn’t handle that, so he just kept playing, his eyes on the hands that fell like broken twigs upon his telephone-wire guitar strings. He couldn’t even hear the sounds he was producing. He felt them, though. He felt it like a hurricane brewing in the pit of his stomach – and that’s how he knew he was good. He didn’t need to look up, at his parents, or his friends, or that damn Priest. He _knew_ he was killing it. He always did. He didn’t know how to be anything other than perfect.   
Then, all at once, it fell apart. He looked up for a split second and – oh. Gerard was there, in the front row, and he was staring at him with eyes that shone like a rising sun, a vaguely awed smile on his face.   
Frank swore as his fingers slipped a little, missing half a note. He recovered. Gerard tilted his head slightly, noticing the mistake, or maybe the change in Frank’s form, and the younger man’s fingers slid again, this time making a squeak against the metal cord which was, thankfully, masked by the bass.   
He physically turned his body away from Gerard, panting as he focused on playing the right notes. He was mostly successful, even if he could feel the other man’s eyes on him.

 

“Well done, guys. You raised… a lot of money. Enough to fix the window,” Gerard beamed, looking down at the bucket in front of him, a calculator cast to the side.   
“And enough for you all to have a share, too,” he murmured. They were sitting in his living room, each of them with a cup of coffee between their hands, which they all sipped gently. Frank, by some awful accident (Mia’s design), was next to the older man, and was the only one who looked entirely at ease. It was ironic, though. He felt awful

“Well, that’s good. Now you don’t have to waste your time trying to make up the money for it,” Frank sniffed, taking a sip of his drink. Mia kicked him hard under the table, glaring softly. The other band members were oblivious to the sharp nature of the comment. Gerard, however, wasn’t. He glanced up, his eyes hard and with a coldness in them that surprised everyone.

“Frank, can I have a word?” he asked sharply. Without waiting for an answer, he rose to his feet and walked briskly out to the kitchen. Frank exchanged nervous glances with his bandmates, set his coffee down, and followed him out, chewing nervously on his bottom lip. God, he hadn’t meant to actually offend or upset him. He was just…making a point. That was all. He swallowed hard as he walked in, instinctively closing the door behind him.   
Gerard was facing away from him, leaning heavily on the sink. Frank cleared his throat.

“Um. Father, I-

“Frank. Do you have a _problem_ with me?” he asked, turning around suddenly. He looked furious. Frank had only seen him look so angry a couple times before, but this was different. This was really his own fault. Not only that, but beneath the anger there was…actual pain. He’d never meant to hurt him.

“No.  I mean…I’m just…sad,” he admitted, rocking gently on his feet. Gerard looked genuinely taken aback.

“Sad?” he asked. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that response. Frank nodded slowly.

“You…y’know, you hurt me, when you said that you didn’t want me anymore. It…felt a lot like a rejection. And I know that’s stupid, y’know? Because it wasn’t. And I get it. But I just…can’t help but feel like I’ve ruined something that could have been amazing,”  he murmured softly, biting harder on his lip.   
Gerard could be seen to visibly stiffen, his eyes becoming guarded, his jaw clenching.

“Referring to…our friendship?” he asked uncertainly. Frank swallowed hard. This was a time for honesty, and he knew it.

“If you say so,” he breathed. Gerard made a frustrated noise, holding his hands against his eyes. Frank watched nervously.

“You could have lied,” Gerard muttered. Frank swallowed hard, glancing down.

“No I couldn’t have. I _couldn’t have_ , Gerard,” he said. Hesitantly, he moved forward and took his hands, tugging them away from his face. Gerard was frowning, his eyebrows knitted together.  He looked unwillingly up at Frank.

“You should have lied. My goodness, Frank…” he shook his head, pressing his lips together. There was no going back from this. Both of them knew it.  Gerard’s hands were trembling a little, and there was genuine fear in his eyes as a battle raged. He had no idea what the outcome would be. Not yet.

“I can’t lie, Gerard. What else do I have to lose? You don’t want anything to do with me. You’re wonderful to me for weeks, and then you just throw me away. What else can I do but be honest?”  he demanded. Gerard sucked in a deep, shaking breath. He looked up at Frank with almost terrifying calmness.

“Have you considered what I have to lose?” he hissed. That genuinely shocked Frank. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking up at him.

“What? What do you have to-

He was cut off, very suddenly, by the older man grabbing his arms and tugging him close, crashing their lips together hard.

Frank couldn’t think, couldn’t even begin to react. He just let it happen, not even able to kiss back. His mind was a hurricane of white noise as his senses failed to process exactly what was happening. At some point, his body was shoved back into the counter, and that’s what really woke him up. He moaned softly, wrapping his arms around the Priest’s neck, drawing him closer as he kissed him back. This was better than he could have dreamed of. The priest was, surprisingly, a very good kisser, even despite his awkward, unco-ordinated lips, or the way his teeth occasionally scraped Frank’s bottom lip. He couldn’t complain.

Too soon, Gerard pulled back, stumbling a few steps. He grabbed the wall for support, looking darkly at Frank, panting softly. Frank swallowed, nervously wiping his lips.

“F-Father…Gerard, I-

“Get out,” Gerard whispered, his voice shaking. He seemed to be trying not to cry.

“Please, Gerard, can we just-

“No. Get out. Get the _Hell_ away from me,” he sobbed. Frank knew that if he didn’t leave, this would be ruined forever. He nodded, holding his hands up in surrender as he left the kitchen. His friends, thankfully, had already departed, so there was nothing stopping Frank from running out of the front door, his heart slamming in his ears.


	8. Chapter 8

Frank wasn’t _surprised_ when Gerard avoided him after that, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed. He tried, knowing he’d be unsuccessful, to contact him, but it was to no avail. One evening he even went to the Priest’s house, and even though the lights were on, there was no answer.  
  
He felt sadness and guilt bury themselves in the pit of his stomach – but not regret. How could he ever regret what had happened? Gerard’s lips had been so hard and insistent on his own, the taste of his mouth so sweet. He replayed it in his mind, over and over – the way his back was shoved into the counter, the gentle moan that slipped from Gerard’s lips as his weight was pressed against him. Sometimes, late at night, with his hand under the covers, Frank would let the scenario build. What if Gerard hadn’t pulled away? What if he’d kissed down Frank’s neck, his hands fumbling with his belt, until he finally sank to his knees and -   
He never normally lasted past that thought. It was normally at that point that he’d find himself shaking and soaked, the guilt in his stomach seeming to grow, overcoming the wave of pleasure he’d just felt.

 

“...and she’s nice and all, real sweet, but I don’t think I can- Frank? Frankie, are you even listening?” Mia sighed, shaking his arm. They were at her house, sat on her floor with a box of pizza between them. Frank, unsurprisingly, _hadn’t_ been listening.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Tina. Not sure if you and her are a thing…” he mumbled. Mia rolled her eyes and looked at him.

“You know, he’s a _Priest_. So even if he does decide to talk to you again, there’s no way you two can…y’know. Be together. It’s against his vows,”

“Sorry princess, didn’t realise you were a member of the clergy,” he mumbled. Mia glared at him, biting aggressively on her pizza.

“No, but _Google_ exists, Frankie. After what happened between you guys, he’d have had to confess and vow to never sin again. Which, by the way, Mr. Self-Pity, is probably why he’s avoiding you. Because you tempt him,” she said, glancing away. Frank paused for a moment, biting his lip. She had a point, there. If an alcoholic wanted to stay sober, they’d avoid going to bars – so a Priest trying to stay pure would avoid the object of their…desire?   
Was it really that bad? Frank had assumed that his little crush had been mostly unrequited, but if Gerard was going out of his way to avoid him, it must be because his feelings were overwhelming.

“So what do I do?” he asked gently. Mia looked up from her phone and sighed, shrugging a little.

“Leave him alone, Frank. If you really care about him, just leave him alone. He’s already risked a fuck ton with what he did before – he’s lucky he didn’t get suspended. Just… let it go,”

Frank already knew that wasn’t possible. He’d had a taste and now he was hooked.  He wasn’t sure what it was, but he was almost certain it had to do with the fact that, in all reality, Frank couldn’t have him. He was older, and he was a Priest. Those two things alone made them forbidden – and that’s the part that set Frank on fire. He wanted to bend the man over a pew and make him forget everything but his name. He wanted to make a new meaning out of ‘get on your knees and ask for forgiveness’. He wanted to stain everything pure about Gerard, and he wanted the older man to _want it_.

But it was more than even just that. Because he didn’t just want to fuck him speechless – he wanted _him_. He wanted to hold him and kiss the tips of his fingers. He wanted to watch him undress slowly, and take in every beautiful inch of him. He wanted laughing and cuddling in bed, when both of them were sweating and panting and looking at each other like they were the only things that mattered. And Frank wanted these things so badly it hurt. He knew Mia’s suggestion was smart – leave him alone. Let him be pure. But the idea of not being with him ate at him. He was selfish and stupid and he didn’t care. If Gerard didn’t want him, then by God, the Priest would tell him so himself.   
He knew there was one time when Gerard couldn’t ignore him. And maybe using a Holy time for his own purposes was a sin – but so was lust. And if he didn’t get this sorted out, he was going to be lusting right up until he got delivered to Hell.

 

“Mom, are you going to Church tomorrow?” Frank asked at dinner that night. His mother glanced up, looking genuinely surprised.

“Yes, of course, like I do every week. Why, are you coming?” she asked sarcastically. Frank shifted a little in his seat.

“Uh, actually, yeah. I was going to, if that’s okay?” he asked gently. Her surprise only grew as she leaned back in her chair, her fork poised above her plate.

“Oh. I mean…if you really want to? Can I ask why?” she asked carefully, her eyes seeming to scan over him. Frank shrugged.

“I just haven’t been in a while. I figured that can’t be good for my immortal soul or whatever,” he murmured, hoping she wouldn’t detect the heavy sarcasm that tainted his tone. He knew there was no way she could know his real motives, but nonetheless he tried to remain impassive. She shrugged, slowly going back to eating her food.

“Okay – are you going to be awake in time?” she asked, glancing up at him. “I’m not waiting around if you sleep in,” she warned, clearly still wary. Frank nodded, not making eye contact with her.

“Yeah, I’ll be up,” he mumbled, shoving a piece of potato into his mouth to shut down the conversation.

 

True to his word, Frank was actually ready before his Mother – a phenomenon that shocked her when she came into his room to wake him up, and found him fully dressed and gently strumming his guitar.

“You’re eager,” she noted, glancing over him. Frank laughed weakly.

“No, just couldn’t sleep,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. She just nodded, but Frank knew she was suspicious. He’d have to keep a low profile for the rest of the morning, and try not to seem _too_ interested when they got to the Church.

That, however, proved to be harder than he thought. As they walked, he passed the small house at the edge of the Church grounds and his heart pounded. In that house, he’d kissed Gerard – or rather, Gerard had kissed him. He remembered, in full detail, the eagerness of the man’s mouth, the way his body responded with lustful tremors running through his bones. He felt his cock gently twitch at the thought of it – and, more specifically, at the remembrance of his fantasises that had taken place in the very Church he was entering – and groaned weakly. This was going to be far more difficult than he’d anticipated, he just knew it.

Gerard didn’t approach the platform for a good five minutes, which was just about enough time for Frank’s body to relax, and for him to convince himself that he’d be okay.   
Of course, once the older man _did_ arrive, Frank was gone completely. He swallowed hard, his heart racing. Gerard was so _pretty_. His fantasies didn’t do a thing of justice for him – Gerard wasn’t as old as he’d convinced himself, nor was he quite so overweight. While he was both these things, they sort of worked for him, and he had a kind of whimsical charm to him. He raised a hand and addressed the crowd – but he might as well have been speaking directly to Frank, because his voice reverberated through his body far louder than it did against the Church walls. If Frank’s  body was a temple, it had been built to honour Gerard.

To Gerard’s credit, it took him a while to notice Frank’s presence. Maybe it was because he honestly hadn’t entertained the idea that Frank would stoop so low as to bother him during a service, but it was a genuine shock to him when he spotted him, all black hair and teenage angst, sitting in the third row. He stumbled slightly over his words, his usually strong voice weakening a little. He noticed his hands shaking as he turned the page in his Bible and internally cursed himself. He’d been pure for two weeks straight since ‘the incident’, and now _this?_ Why couldn’t Frank just leave him alone?   
He tried hard not to imagine the boy’s lips against his, the race of his heart as he felt himself awaken from what felt like a thousand year-long sleep. It’d been a while since he’d felt alive like that.   
Had he _ever_ felt alive like that? He wasn’t sure anymore. But now that he saw Frank sitting there, looking almost adoringly up at him, he’d honestly believe it if it turned out that his heart had only started beating two months ago.   
Had it really only been two months? It felt like forever.  He wanted it to be forever.

 

Frank was, for once, absolutely enthralled about his Mother’s habit of hanging around after Church. She talked with her friends, catching up on the neighbourhood gossip – normally something that Frank despised, but now it bought him time. He clutched the rosary in his pocket (the one Gerard had given him all those weeks ago) and looked out for the ageing man coming down the aisle.   
It was a while until he saw him, but once he did, his heart accelerated to the point where he felt like his entire form was pulsing.   
The older man, amusingly, pretended not to see Frank for a moment – talking to other Church-goers, looking around the room, and so on. It was a few minutes before he came over and warmly shook Frank’s Mother’s hand. He still avoided Frank’s gaze.

“Wonderful sermon, Father,” Frank’s Mother smiled. Gerard grinned, nodding his head gratefully. He glanced, finally, at Frank with a guarded expression.

“Hello, Frank. I haven’t seen you in a while,” he said, his voice tight and cold. Frank pursed his lips, glancing up through his eyelashes.

“I felt like getting some Holy guidance, or something like that,” Frank hummed.

“Well, this is the place for that. I hope you found what you were looking for,”

“No. Not really. I don’t feel particularly enlightened,” Frank looked up at Gerard with an accusatory glare, his jaw clenched. “Maybe we could talk in the confessional?” he asked innocently.    
Gerard thought for a moment, then gave a little smirk of his own.

“I can’t right now, Frank. I suggest that, whatever is bothering you, you pray for guidance,” he said firmly. “That’s what I do.”

Frank took that exactly as it was meant. Gerard wanted the whole thing to be forgotten – he didn’t even want to talk about it. The idea made Frank’s heart squeeze – he wasn’t even being given a chance.

“Can you refuse confession?” he asked, his voice sickly sweet.

“There are times when confession is heard, Frank. If you actually attended Church for more reasons than personal vendettas, you’d know that. Check the timetable and return at a better time.”   
He glanced up at Frank’s Mother and smiled coolly. She, apparently, didn’t have any reason to disagree with his decision, and smiled back.  
“I’ll see you next week, Linda. It’s been good speaking with you,” he said gently. He didn’t even spare Frank another glance as he walked back towards the vestry.   
That asshole.

 

Being that he had no other choice, Frank checked the time at the confessional, and returned to the Church a few hours later. Unsurprisingly, his Mother was surprised and a little concerned by his seemingly urgent need to speak with the Priest, but didn’t comment. After all – she didn’t want to turn him off religion just when he seemed to be getting into it. Besides, he was eighteen – what sort of awful thing could he really be doing?

Frank had never been to confession before – he’d only seen it in movies. A quick online search had told him basically what to expect, although that didn’t include a line of people ahead of him.   
It was strange, watching them come out of the thin, brown box looking so relieved and sure of themselves – just from speaking with Gerard. It was almost funny to Frank – none of them knew that the man in question was so impure himself.

When it was Frank’s turn, he took a deep, shaking breath, before stepping into the box. He knelt down next to the grate and looked down, biting his lip. He willed his heart to stop hammering, but it ignored him and continued to make dents in his ribcage.

“In t-the name of the F-Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, it’s been…um. This is my first confession,” he stammered, staring at the wooden floor. He could hear Gerard suck in a breath.

“Frank,”

“Yes, Father,”

“I…I’m listening,” he murmured gently. His voice sounded almost soft and warm, like it used to be before…before all of this. It gave Frank hope – although, he didn’t dismiss the idea that this was probably just his ‘Priest’ voice. Frank nodded, rubbing his hands on his jeans.

“I’ve sinned a lot. It’s been eighteen years. I’ve done…some real bad stuff. But uh, I guess the thing I’m here for is that…um. I’ve been having indecent and lustful thoughts about…about a man-

“Frank-

“A member of the clergy-

“Frank, _please-_

“You. I’ve been thinking…awful things. Filthy things. I can’t even repeat them. You’d never speak to me again if you knew how I’d been thinking about you,” he breathed, his voice trembling. Gerard was silent for a moment, seemingly trying to collect himself before replying.

“Don’t repeat them,” he whispered. His tone was strained, and Frank was desperate to see his face, but he didn’t dare look up.

“I won’t. Father, if it was just the thoughts and the fantasies and the dreams…I could live with that. But it’s more,”

“My goodness-

“Father, I can’t stop thinking about you. And we can’t pretend that we didn’t kiss, or that we didn’t enjoy it. It happened, and I liked it. I like _you._ Why won’t you talk to me?” his voice was choked and shaky as he tried to fight tears. God, why was he crying?   
Gerard was quiet again for a few seconds.

“I’m not pretending. I know it happened. And…and yes, I enjoyed it. But it can’t happen again, Frank, you _know_ that. I’m your Priest. I can’t abuse my position like that…it’s not right,” again, his voice was kind and soft, and it made Frank absolutely melt.

“But you’re not. You’re just doing what’s making us both happy. Don’t tell me that that’s the first time you’d wanted to kiss me,” he breathed.

“It…it wasn’t. You tempt me, Frank. That’s why I’ve been avoiding you. The temptation to…break my vows; it’s almost too strong to handle,” he admitted. Butterflies erupted through Frank’s chest at the words. This was what he wanted. A damn admission – so why didn’t he feel good?

“And now?”

“Sorry?”

“What about now, Father? Am I tempting you now?” he asked, his voice shaking. Gerard let out a soft groan.

“Yes. Even now. You’re _always_ tempting me, Frank. Even when I’m not around you, it’s just… _frustrating,”_ he mumbled. Frank, at least, was happy that he was being honest.

“Really?”

“Yes. I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. That…that stupid kiss. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did, and now I can’t get it out of my head. Frank, I haven’t been tempted by someone in… in decades. Why you?”   
Frank was silent for a moment before he responded.

“I don’t know. But it’s mutual. I want you, too.”

“It can’t happen. I confessed and made a vow to never sin again. So that’s it. I can’t do this anymore, Frank. You’ll have to leave me alone.” His voice sounded more sure and firm than he felt, and Frank knew it. The younger man sighed, finally looking up. Gerard wasn’t looking at him, though, but straight ahead at the cross that hung above the door.

“Can I come over tonight? Just to talk?” he asked weakly. “We were friends, y’know. You’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had. Can we try to get that back at least?”

“Frank…I can’t turn these feelings off. The only thing I can do is avoid the situation. I don’t want something to happen-

“It won’t. Father, I won’t let it. Please. I miss you,” he breathed. Gerard sighed, closing his eyes. He’d regret this, he knew he would.

“Okay. I’m gonna be finished here in…say, half an hour. Meet me at my place and we’ll talk. Just talk,” he said firmly. Frank couldn’t help but smile a little.

“Well, I mean. All that grey hair is real hard for me to resist, Father, but I’ll do my best.” To his joy, Gerard smiled and cast a glance to the window.

“Go. And pray or something while you’re there, alright?” he beamed, shaking his head. Frank nodded, thanked him, and slid out of the confessional.   
Well, that could have gone worse.   
From what he’d gathered: Gerard liked him, enjoyed kissing him, and wanted to be his friend. That was a good start.


	9. Chapter 9

Frank made his way to Gerard’s house, his head bowed to avoid the rain drops that fell steadily onto the back of his neck. He blamed the shivers that coursed through his bones on the cold – it definitely didn’t have anything to do with his nerves.  
He knew the path well, like he was following the lines in the veins of his own hand. Down the road, past the row of fences, around an oak tree; then, Gerard’s place, tucked neatly between two tall, green shrubs. Frank wondered, somewhat distantly, whether or not it was Gerard who took care of them, or was it the Church groundskeeper? Did the Church _have_ a groundskeeper?   
Frank, evidently, was good at distracting himself. Especially if it involved disjointed thoughts.

The rain picked up after about ten minutes, much to Frank’s dismay. He wandered around the grounds surrounding the house, to see if he could find shelter besides that given, albeit weakly, by the small thatched roof that jutted out only slightly. His feet sunk into the ground, creating canyons of depressions in the damp earth.   
He could practically feel the mud caking his shoes, but he kept walking. He wasn’t entirely sure if he was even looking for shelter anymore – he just needed to walk. He needed to not be near Gerard’s house, so he could actually think.

The trees grew thicker the further he walked, until their leaves connected above his head to create a canopy, shining a kaleidoscope of sky and earth onto the floor. The rain still fell, but Frank mostly just heard it as it slid across the leaves, rather than feeling it drip onto his hair.   
Fuck. Fuck, he had it so bad. When the hell did his taste go from David Bowie to the local Priest? Was he getting desperate, or soft?

“Shit,” he muttered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his rosary, his fingers trembling around the beads. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He couldn’t believe he was even _considering_ it.   
Well, fuck it.   
“God. I mean…yeah. God. Fuck,” he shook his head, biting his lip as he looked down at his shoes, now entirely coated in the thick mud. His jeans were damp, his shirt all but see through. He shivered as a raindrop fell from his hair, sliding down his nose. He couldn’t imagine a more morose situation.   
“I can’t do this. I can’t…why _him_? If this is all some bullshit plan, I quit. He’s pure. I don’t…”   
He swallowed hard, blinking fast.   
“I don’t wanna hurt him. I don’t wanna make him hurt himself. Please. Give me strength to just…to leave him alone. He deserves better. He deserves Heaven, and purity, and all the things he vowed to protect. Please, let him stay pure,” he breathed, his hands shaking.  
Was that arrogant of him? To suggest to himself, and to God, that maybe _he_ could tempt a pure man away from his vow.   
But it was true. Gerard had said so. Somehow, Frank Iero, with his laugh like butterflies fluttering against a glass jar, and a wooden stake through his heart and his lip, managed to draw down the saint from his throne, to smash the cross into bits and say farewell to a good man’s conscience, floating out of existence like the black smoke that billowed from a fucking funeral pyre. What a fucking joke.

 

There was two things that went unnoticed by Frank, for a time. The first was that he was crying. Maybe it was because his face was already wet, or because he didn’t _want_ to know that it was happening, but his mind just wouldn’t recognise the action.   
The second thing, was Gerard following him. In all fairness, he _may_ have noticed, if he’d tried. If he’d looked up and turned around, he’d probably have seen the man, still in his Priest robes, struggling to make his way across the muddy terrain, holding onto his cane like a lifeline. He called out to him, but it was almost like Frank made an unconscious decision to ignore him.   
He didn’t respond to him until Gerard was behind him, his hair and clothes absolutely soaked from the rain, his cane drenched in mud.

“Frank. Are you okay?” he asked softly, blinking away the raindrops. Frank turned around, the rosary clenched so tight in his hand, his knuckles were white. He was shivering from the cold, his teeth chattering so he could barely speak.

“Why won’t he _fucking_ listen to me? Why can’t he fix this?” he shouted, body trembling. Gerard’s face softened, and he took a step closer.

“I don’t have all the answers, Frank. I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you,” he said softly. For once, he was being honest, and Frank’s chest filled with hope. He pushed his hair back, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t want to hurt you either. I don’t want you to have to avoid me to stop yourself from breaking your damn vows. I want you to be _happy_. Cant you just…” he waved a hand. Gerard, despite the situation, found himself smiling a little amusedly, his eyebrows raising.

“Ah. I don’t know what you’re suggesting, but probably not,” he paused to look around.  
“Can we go to my place, please? It’s…it’s raining,” he laughed. Frank couldn’t help but laugh too, nodding as he placed a hand on Gerard’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’m sorry,”  he mumbled.   
Gerard didn’t reply, but shot him a reassuring smile as he led him back to his house.

 

Frank found himself, moments later, wrapped in a blanket, shivering slightly as he cradled a cup of tea between his fingers.   
Gerard sat down next to him, smiling amusedly into his own cup as he sipped his drink. Frank giggled slightly – nervously – and took a sip of his own.

“What’s so funny?” Frank asked, leaning back. Gerard grinned, still not looking up.

“Ah. It was just…real stupid of you to go out there like that,” he said, meeting Frank’s eyes with a warm smile. Frank chuckled, relaxing slightly.

“Yeah. Uh, I guess it was. I just…needed to walk, I guess. Clear my head,” he chewed his lip, wondering if he should go on.   
“Praying,” he added, after a moment. Gerard looked pleased, but unsurprised.

“What did you pray for? Or can’t you tell me?” he asked, taking a sip of coffee. He set the mug down, turning his body slightly towards Frank.   
“I mean, I’m a Priest so – your secrets are safe,”

“Other than when you have to confess, right?” he asked, peering up. Gerard snorted, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t mention your name, Frank. That wouldn’t be fair. I just…expressed the sin,” he said, waving a hand. Frank was actually really impressed with how open Gerard was being. Maybe it had something to do with this being the eleventh hour, so to speak. There wasn’t time left for being dismissive.

“What exactly did you say? Or can’t I know?” Frank asked, turning the question back on Gerard. The older man gave a pained smile.

“Well. To paraphrase, I said that I’d been having lustful feelings for a member of my congregation, and that…” he stopped, seeming to mentally shake himself,   
“and that we’d kissed. And that I’m still tempted,” he murmured. His cheeks burned as he shifted, staring at anywhere that wasn’t Frank. The younger man couldn’t help the smile that crossed his cheeks.

“Did you get in trouble?”

“Not exactly. I got a warning. They couldn’t take away my title or anything, but I still have to be careful. You really don’t wanna piss off the Church,” he smiled.   
Frank realised with a start that he’d never heard Gerard swear before now. It was strange.

“Are you gonna need to confess for that, too? For swearing?” he asked, a grin crossing his face. Gerard looked at him and laughed weakly.

“I’m gonna have to confess for a lot,” he murmured. There was something in his tone that made Frank shiver, and put an end to any further questions. For the time being.

 

Frank didn’t want to be the one to bring up why he was really there. He didn’t want to stop the flow of casual, comfortable banter that they were sharing to say ‘hey, you kissed me and it fucked me up’. He didn’t want to risk the rebuilding of the friendship that he’d come to value, and then lost. But how could he not? Every time Gerard smiled, or laughed, or spoke with that little half-twitch in his mouth, Frank just wanted to hold him. He wanted to kiss him, and touch him, and learn everything there was to him. He was becoming obsessed, unhealthily attached, and he needed to quell the flames before they burned him alive. He knew it. Even hellfire couldn’t be this bad, so fuck, what did he have to lose?

“Gerard. I…we really need to talk,” he murmured. Gerard looked up from his cup of coffee (his third since Frank had arrived) and gave a slightly uneasy smile.

“Yeah, we do. I know, I’m sorry. Please-“ he shifted to face Frank, giving him his whole attention. Frank nodded, swallowing hard.

“Um. Well. That…that kiss. It happened-

“It did. And we’ve talked about it,” Gerard said tersely. He seemed reluctant to talk – but at least he was humouring Frank.

“We did. Um. But, we didn’t really talk about the fact that we both want to do it again,” Frank said, his voice small. He expected Gerard to deny it – to unleash some sort of holy wrath on him and order him away.   
But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He just gave a pained smile and nodded.

“No. I suppose we’ve sort of side-stepped that one, haven’t we?” he breathed. Frank’s heart fluttered and he sat up straight, feeling blood rush to his cheeks. Gerard looked up and chuckled a little, rolling his eyes.   
“You can’t say you didn’t know,” he murmured. Frank chewed his lip.

“I…I’d hoped. But I didn’t know,” he admitted.

“Well, now you do. I want to kiss you, still. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, actually. It’s…been distracting and confusing,” he murmured, eyes darting away. It was the only tell that Frank could see that revealed that he wasn’t as composed as he was pretending to be. That was, even in a small measure, a relief.

“So…what are we gonna do?” Frank asked. Gerard’s eyes flicked back to him.

“Nothing. We can’t, Frank. You’re…very sweet, and very attractive. But I’m an old man and I’m a Priest, and this could never be anything. You have to know that,” he murmured, almost sympathetically. The patronising edge to his tone got under Frank’s skin, but he forced himself to remain calm.

“So what? You took a vow and now you can’t be happy?” he asked bitterly. Gerard gave a soft laugh.

“I am happy. I just can’t _fuck_ ,” he said softly. The word, in all its crudeness, sent a wave of pleasure through Frank. It sounded so pretty falling from Gerard’s holy lips – like a dirty picture scribbled into a school textbook. There was something so inappropriately validating about it, so attractive in the most forbidden way. It did nothing to Frank’s need for him.

“But do you want to?”

“Frank. That’s not appropriate,” Gerard murmured, blushing hard. Frank smirked

“Neither is saying ‘fuck’, Father. But you looked real pretty doing it,” he murmured, feeling bravery (and a sense of ‘oh fuck it’) rising in his chest.   
“Makes me wonder what else you’d look pretty doing,”

“Oh, goodness,” Gerard whispered, dropping his eyes. His heart began to pump despite his wishing it wouldn’t. He couldn’t be tempted. He had to stay pure.  
Fuck, had he ever been pure? This was all a fucking joke. He was as pure as Frank was – and what was worse, the boy knew it. He knew he had Gerard.

“I’m sorry, Father, I just…I want you,” he murmured, putting a hand over Gerard’s where it was clenched on the sofa. Gerard sucked in a breath, but didn’t move.

“I…Frank, please. I can’t. I took a vow,”

“Then do it, and confess, and move on. Aren’t you curious?”

“I haven’t…I haven’t been tempted in _years_ ,” Gerard whispered.

“All the more reason to give in to it, Father. Gerard. Heaven can wait,”

“I…I want to stay pure. Don’t you want me to stay pure?” Gerard whispered, his voice trembling – with need, and nerves, and every emotion inbetween. Frank smiled.

“I do. I want you to be pure, Gerard. But you’ve already committed the sin, just from thinking about it. About me. God knows you want me, and so do I. And so do you. So just…just once. Just to get it out of our systems,” he whispered, sidling closer. Gerard swallowed hard.

“I…I want you, Frank. Oh, goodness, I _want you_ ,” he breathed, his tongue darting out to swipe at his lips. Frank smirked. He seemed so confident, but inside, there was a storm brewing under his ribcage. He had no idea what he was doing – this was crazy, and so was he. But he couldn’t stop. He was so close, he couldn’t stop.

“And I want you, Gerard. I asked God to take this away. I asked him to keep you pure, but he didn’t. You want me, and I want you. So just once – just tonight. After this I’ll leave you alone. I’ll pray for you every single night. I’ll sing hymns until my mouth runs dry. But for God sake, Gerard. For _my_ sake. Just fuckin’ kiss me,” he whispered, sliding a hand onto his thigh.   
Gerard, embarrassingly, felt his cock stir at the movement. It’d been so long since he’d been touched like this. He couldn’t even remember the last time someone had wanted him so badly. He found himself desperate for the hungry, predatory look in Frank’s eyes. He wanted the boy to tear him apart, to devour him whole, to remind him that Hell was real. He needed to step out of the light, and feel the dark, heavy pawing of sin against his cock, in his hair, smeared across his mouth.  
He’d been a filthy fucking whore once, and his body was screaming to have that back.

“Just one,” he heard himself say.   
“One kiss. No more. And then you leave me alone,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around Frank’s waist. Frank blinked in surprise for a moment, before he composed himself into a little smirk.

“Yes, sir. Whatever you say,” he breathed. He reached forward, caressing Gerard’s cheek. He could feel the gentle razor burn against the pad of his thumb, the soft prickle of newly grown hair poking out from his soft cheeks. He smiled, glancing down.   
“You took your collar off,” he noted. Gerard blushed.

“I…I thought it’d be best,” he breathed. Frank giggled, stroking  a hand through his hair.

“I agree. Please, relax,” he murmured, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Gerard’s jaw. The older man let out a soft squeal and tensed.

“I can’t. Just do it and…and I’ll see,” he murmured. Frank met his eyes for a moment. He let his confident façade slip, and watched as the walls blocking Gerard’s mind slowly fell. He saw the fear, the trepidation buried in the deep hazel rings. But he also saw want, and lust, and excitement. They mirrored the look in his own eyes, and he knew this was right. Whatever happened next, this was right.   
Frank sighed as he leaned forward, and gently pressed his lips to Gerard’s.

This kiss was different from their first. Gerard didn’t react for a moment, but when he did, the movements were careful, calculated. It was like he was trying hard not to lose himself in the labyrinth of Frank’s lips and tongue. And maybe he was. He sighed, melting into his arms, curling himself around him as he accepted the kiss. He felt himself getting hotter – maybe it was arousal, maybe it was the Devil wrapping his spiked hands around Gerard’s throat.   
But he didn’t care. Not right then. Maybe later, alone, he’d masturbate and cry and pray, and then he’d confess. But in this moment, his salvation lay in Frank’s mouth, the scriptures that he lived his life by echoed against the boy’s teeth.   
He needed this. He needed the sin so he could put the idea to bed. If this was the best it got, then he could handle that. He could have this moment, and then his eternity in peace.

But he knew this wouldn’t be the best. He could lie to himself all he wanted, but it wasn’t. The very best, would be him tied to a bed like a makeshift crucifix, with the boy between his legs and -   
he almost refused to finish the thought. He didn’t want to think about what Frank could possibly be doing between his legs. But the image of his young, lithe hips thrusting eagerly forward was enough to send a spark running down his back.   
He moaned, pulling Frank closer as he kissed him, and feeling a mixture of agony and delight when the boy responded in kind.

Eventually, at a time that was both too late and too soon, Frank pulled back.

“Father, we have to stop,” he whispered, panting hard. Gerard looked up and nodded, his eyes blown and full of a lustful fire that had no business in a Priest’s eyes.

“I know,” he whispered. Frank giggled, running a hand through his own hair.

“No, I mean. Uh. I’m hard, and you’re…you’re hard. And I don’t want this to go any further,” he murmured, stroking the older man’s cheek. Gerard hadn’t realised that he’d wanted to get fucked until Frank told him he couldn’t.

“You don’t?” he murmured dejectedly. Frank looked delighted, but shook his head.

“No, honey. I don’t wanna fuck this up for you. This is gonna be bad enough later – but it’s just a kiss. You can explain away a kiss. You can forgive a kiss,” he murmured.   
“You can’t do any more, Gerard. I won’t let you. I won’t let you throw away Heaven,”   
Gerard made a soft whining noise. He knew Frank was right – and God, he was so thankful that _one_ of them was thinking from above the waist.

“What if I don’t want it anymore?” he whispered, taking Frank’s hands. The younger boy gave him a sympathetic look and kissed his cheek, pulling back gently. It wasn’t a rejection, but it was a goodbye, of sorts.

“You do. As soon as I’m not here, you’ll be praying. And I’ll pray for you too – like I promised,” he murmured, rising to his feet. He wordlessly grabbed his jacket, and didn’t speak again until he was at the door.   
“I promised I’d leave you alone, too,” he reminded him softly. Gerard smiled weakly. He could already feel the regret settling into his skin like a disease.

“Y’know. I think…I think I might still need some help around the Church on Sundays. I mean, if that’s something you’d want?” he asked hopefully. Frank opened the door, and both men shivered at the sobering bite of the icy wind. Frank smiled and nodded.

“I’ll see you Sunday then, Father. Thank you for the tea and…and everything,” he murmured. He gave a nervous nod before he slipped out of the door.

There was a good three seconds before Frank began to start laughing, almost hysterically into the silent night.   
Maybe Gerard would have heard it, had he not started crying at the same time.


	10. Chapter 10

Frank, in his own not-so-humble opinion, thought he’d been very good at not thinking too hard about Gerard in the week that followed, all things considered.   
Sure, occasionally the velvet smooth slide of their lips as the collided would occasionally appear in his head, or the way Gerard panted with pure lust, moaning as he gripped his arms.   
And, of course, there was that ever-present image of the swell of Gerard’s cock pressing eagerly against his jeans. That was practically burned to the back of Frank’s retinas. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the thought that _he had made a Priest get an erection._ It was a sexier idea than perhaps it should have been.

Of course, and understandably, Frank found himself recounting the whole encounter to Mia, who watched him with genuine intrigue, her eyebrows lifting delicately in surprise. Or maybe she was just judging him. He couldn’t be sure – but wouldn’t blame her either way.

“So…so wait. You’re telling me that he was having a moral crisis about his vows, and that this ended up with you guys making out?” she asked slowly. Frank blushed and nodded, chewing his lip. Mia snickered.   
“Damn, Iero. If I hadn’t met you both, I’d say that story was fake as hell,” she giggled. Frank sighed, running a hand through his hair and leaning back on her bed. He stared up at the ceiling, as if the white plaster might hold in it some secret to his situation.

“So that’s it. And I agreed to help him out on Sunday and…God, I don’t know. I never thought it’d go this far,” he murmured, biting his lip. Mia gave a little snort and leaned back so her back was against his side.

“You didn’t think it’d go this far, no. But you didn’t try to stop it, either,” she murmured softly, glancing back at him. Frank closed his eyes and let out a sigh. As much as he wished he could tell her she was wrong, she wasn’t. This was entirely his own fault. He should have respected Gerard’s wishes and just stayed away.

“I know. And maybe it’s too late to fix it now, but I wanna try,” he murmured. “He looked so…defeated. Like I’d smashed down a wall he’d spent forever building. And…and I don’t want him to stop being a Priest because of me. I don’t want him to have to let go of all that,”

“Then stop,”

“I can’t. I mean. I can’t just leave him alone. But I think I can make sure he stays on his path,” he murmured. He glanced up at Mia with a soft frown.   
“He said he hasn’t been tempted in years. But he didn’t say he hadn’t been tempted _ever_. Maybe I could find out what happened last time,” he murmured. Mia shrugged.

“Could be an idea. Just be careful, okay? He has so much more to lose than you,” she said softly.   
Frank let out a shaky laugh. He knew. He knew too damn well that Gerard was risking his soul for this.

 

By Sunday, Frank had almost decided that he wasn’t going to go. He did, though. Of course he did. No matter what façade he may try to conjure, he knew he wouldn’t be able to go too long without seeing the Priest. Even if it was just on a friendship basis, he knew he needed the other man.   
But, of course, it wasn’t on a friendship basis.

“Frank, I’m glad to see you,” Gerard said coolly when Frank approached him in the vestry. His expression was calm and composed; almost mask-like in its impassiveness. His voice held the texture of the pages of an old book – crisp, dry, but still bursting with character. No matter how poised Gerard tried to act, he’d never be able to shake his Jersey drawl, that probably had more place in a nightclub than a Church. Frank smiled weakly.

“Good morning Father. You…you look well,” he murmured. The statement was almost amusing, because Frank actually hadn’t looked at him yet. His eyes were fixed on the floor. His shoes, he had decided, had less power over him than Gerard’s galaxy-swirled hazel eyes.   
Gerard, regardless, smiled fondly.

“Thank you, Frank. As do you,” he said gently. He sounded like he was mentally dancing on eggshells, afraid to say anything besides generic phrases. Frank wasn’t sure exactly what he was afraid of – it’s not like Frank was going to jump him if he said a wrong word.

“So, uh. What do you need me to do?” Frank asked, finally glancing up at him. As expected, his chest gave a soft squeeze, and he felt himself blush.   
Maybe he imagined it, but he thought he saw red blossoming under Gerard’s soft, pale cheeks in response. It was the only thing that assured him that this was mutual. He hadn’t dreamt that kiss, or the way Gerard’s whole body reacted to him. It was real. They were real.

Gerard smiled softly up at him, chewing a little on his lip. Frank’s eyes were immediately drawn to the action, his face reddening even more as he remembered what that lip felt like being pressed against his own.

“Well, I mean, just the same as usual. Make sure all the pews have Bibles and hymn sheets. Just…” Gerard waved a hand, “just make sure everything’s ready.”   
Frank realised then that Gerard actually had nothing for him to do at all. He’d asked Frank here because he wanted to see him, to be around him.   
The idea made Frank’s stomach flutter, and he gave Gerard a knowing smile.

“Alright, Father,” he murmured, stepping back.   
Gerard paused for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Uh, Frank?”

“Yes, Father?” he asked, turning around. Gerard smiled fondly.

“Thank you for coming to help,” he murmured. Frank ducked his head and smiled, and for a moment, he saw Gerard’s façade slip, revealing a certain softness and light in his eyes. Frank’s heart was a hummingbird, thrumming her wings against the steel cage of his ribs in a plight to escape.

“Anything for you, Father,” he murmured. He half-bowed as he left the vestry.   
If he’d listened really carefully, he might have heard the gentle hitch in Gerard’s breath as he walked away.

 

Unsurprisingly, by the time the Church opened its doors for Mass, it was absolutely spotless.   
Frank had had to return to the vestry several times to ask for new tasks, and each time Gerard had just waved a hand and given him something useless and menial to do. It only further confirmed Frank’s assumption that he was only there because Gerard wanted to see him.   
His suspicion was further realised on the few occasions when Gerard would emerge, make random small talk, and walk back to his office.   
It was infuriating to Frank, but it was _something_. Besides, it’s not like Frank minded the interactions either. He’d missed Gerard like this – warm, soothing, calm. It was a huge jump from the man who’d been pressed desperately against him only a few days before.

Just before Mass actually started, Frank, as always, found Gerard about to approach the pulpit.

“Am I coming to your place after this?” he asked casually. They’d always done it before, so he didn’t see why now should be any different. Several emotions flicked over Gerard’s face – first panic, then confusion, then a cool, but not entirely composed, smile.

“No, thank you Frank. If you’re not staying for the service, you’re free to go,” he said lightly, his words delicate and carefully chosen. Frank felt his stomach tighten, his smile faltering for a moment.

“Oh, I just thought we-“

Gerard’s eyes lit up with a holy fire that threatened to scorch Frank’s will. He looked furious, even as the cool smile still graced his lips.

“We’d what? What could we possibly do?” he demanded, seeming to grow in height as Frank stared at him with an incomprehensible expression.

“We used to hang out,” he mumbled, feeling a lot like a petulant child at that moment. Gerard rolled his eyes.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” he hissed. Frank was mortified by how genuinely _afraid_ he was. Gerard, in all his Saint-like glory, was raining down a holy wrath from the heavens, and it was burning Frank even more than his lips had.

“Gerard. Calm down. I’ll go home, okay?” he blinked away the tears that threatened the edge of his eye.   
“I’ll…I’ll go. I w-won’t come back.” His lip had begun to tremble, and he felt crimson shoot across his face. He was actually crying. He felt ridiculous.

Something about seeing Frank so torn apart made Gerard soften. That wasn’t what he’d wanted. He hadn’t meant to explode like that-   
He reached out to put a hand on Frank’s shoulder, but when the boy shoved it off, he recoiled like he’d been burnt.   
That would at least make two of them.

“Frank. Frank, I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m scared,” he murmured, his voice edging on unfeeling, but with a crack of pain and regret shot through it.   
Fucking good.

“Oh forget it. Forget this and forget you. I don’t wanna be your fuckin’ friend if one stupid kiss is enough to make you hate me,”

“I don’t-

“You do! You do hate me. I can see it. And maybe you like me a whole lot, and maybe we could actually be _something_. But you hate me, too. Because I was the one who broke down that wall. I made you doubt yourself. I made you vandalise that little temple in your head, and you hate me for it.” He paused to wipe his face, ignoring the shocked look that graced Gerard’s features.   
“But none of that was me. I was just _here_. You’re the one who likes me, you chose to kiss me – twice. And now you’re _choosing_ to act like a fuckin’ asshole. So screw you, Gerard,” he spat.

Gerard was silent. He had nothing to say – there was nothing that _could_ be said. Frank had got everything absolutely right. He looked down, feeling very ashamed of himself. None of this was Frank’s fault – not entirely.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Forget it,”

“No. Don’t. Look…come to my place, okay?” he said softly. It was the first genuine thing he’d said all day. Frank was actually tempted to do it, too, if only so he could have more moments of sincerity.   
He looked up at Gerard and sighed.

“Fine,” he muttered. Gerard opened his mouth to speak, but Frank just turned and walked away. He couldn’t be dealing with this. Not right now. Maybe not ever.

 

By the time Gerard approached the house, Frank had convinced and un-convinced himself to leave about eight times. He didn’t want to see him, but he did.   
He wanted to argue with him, but he didn’t. It was a horrible situation and had Frank wishing, for the thousandth time, that he’d never met Gerard at all.   
But then again, he didn’t want that.

Gerard was silent as he unlocked the door, seeming overly focused on the task. He leaned heavily on his cane, and Frank felt a swell of emotion. He hated being reminded how old Gerard was.

“How’s your leg doin’?” Frank asked suddenly. Gerard looked up, genuinely surprised by the question.

“Um, my leg?”

“The…the injured one,” Frank said delicately. Gerard worried his bottom lip between his teeth, pushing the door open.

“You don’t wanna hear ‘bout all that,” he murmured. It was his way of saying ‘my leg is fucking terrible, thank you for asking’. Frank, despite their argument, frowned with concern. He didn’t like the idea of Gerard being in pain.

“Is it hurting you?” he asked, following Gerard to the sofa. He didn’t miss the man’s sigh of relief when he flopped onto it. That was certainly new.

“It’s…I should’ve seen it coming,” he mumbled, shifting a little. Frank frowned.

“Seen what?”

“The leg. It ah, it’s becoming a little too small. The hinges don’t work well. It’s just old and falling apart, and it’s…ridiculously hard to walk,” he said with a soft, sad laugh. Frank immediately felt guilty. Here he was, starting petty arguments, and Gerard was in actual pain.

“Can you take it off?” he asked softly. Gerard gave a little amused snort.

“I can. But I’m not gonna do that with you here. Its… it’s weird. People always say they can handle it, and then get super grossed out,” he murmured. Frank touched his shoulder gently, not missing the way Gerard flinched.

“I don’t mind. I’d rather you were comfortable,” Frank said gently.

Something in his tone, to Gerard, seemed very genuine. He nodded slowly, then blushed.

“Um. I-it involves me takin’ my pants off. Is that…is that too weird?” he asked slowly, watching Frank with reserved eyes. Frank sighed and clicked his tongue.

“I’m not gonna be weirded out about you taking your pants off to take off your prosthetic leg, Gerard,” he said. That being said, he did get a little shiver of panic at the thought of seeing Gerard in just his underwear. It was an image that was usually reserved for his own late-night affairs. But he’d push that aside for now.

Gerard nodded slowly and undid his belt, not looking at Frank as he did.   
Because hell, the last thing he needed while he was doing this was to get a boner.

In fact, both men kept their eyes respectfully averted from the other, until Gerard managed to slide his jeans all the way down, kicking them away from himself. He was unbearably self-conscious, but he trusted Frank.   
Through everything, he still trusted Frank.

When Frank turned back, he tried his very hardest to keep his eyes on the other man’s face – although, he wasn’t entirely successful. At least Gerard had the decency to act like he hadn’t noticed the way Frank’s eyes flickered downwards.   
Frank cleared his throat, tugging his eyes away from the soft, pale thighs and smiled weakly.

“You need some help gettin’ it off?” Frank asked. He coughed, red puffing on his cheeks. “I mean…I mean the l-leg,” he stammered.   
Gerard sighed, reaching down to rub nervously at the plastic clasped around his knee. Even from where Frank was sitting, he could see that the skin was irritated and red, some small lesions in the doughy flesh of his thigh.

“No, I can do it myself,” Gerard murmured, running his hand over his leg. His fingers brushed the soft cotton of the stump sock which, apparently, did nothing in terms of comfort or fit.   
Gerard bit his lip as he glanced up at Frank, before gently undoing the strap, and holding the limb firmly. He exhaled as there was a gentle click, and Frank watched, curious, as the limb fell away in the older man’s hand.

Gerard didn’t make eye contact as he set the leg down on the floor, rolling his sock down to reveal his leg, and the cut-off stump at the end.   
Frank was surprised by how smooth it was. It was almost like there was never anything there at all.

Gerard looked up sheepishly, biting his bottom lip hard, the pink skin fading to a pale, bone white under the pressure of his teeth.

“Is it gross?” Gerard asked hoarsely. His voice revealed that he was expecting an answer in the affirmative, and Frank felt his chest tighten. The poor man had no idea how beautiful Frank thought he was. Frank looked up and smiled, shaking his head.

“No. Of course not, don’t be silly,” he hummed. He didn’t have to try not to glance down now – he was captured by Gerard’s eyes.   
The Priest, to Frank’s joy, gazed back at him, giving a little content sigh.

“Uh, Frank?” he asked softly, not blinking or averting his eyes. Frank smiled.

“Yeah?”

“Uh. I got some coconut oil in my bedroom. Can you grab it for me? It’s the top shelf,” he murmured.   
Admittedly, Frank was a little disappointed, but he nodded all the same, moving towards the stairs and climbing them two at a time.

There were only two rooms at the top of the stairs. One was a bathroom, the other, Frank assumed, was Gerard’s bedroom.   
Unsurprisingly, there was a strange, pitted feeling deep in Frank’s stomach, akin to nervousness. He was about to enter Gerard’s _bedroom_. It was momentous, in a sense.   
Before he could make up any excuses to himself, he pushed the door open gently, peering into the room.

He wasn’t exactly surprised by what he saw. There was a wide double bed, with orange and red velvet bedsheets. The furniture in the room was mainly dark oak and, to Frank’s amusement, entirely colour co-ordinated. Even the off-white wallpaper and brick red carpet fit the room. It looked professional almost – like something you’d see in a hotel.  
The only thing that made the room seem distinctly Gerard’s, was the mess of paper and art supplies on the desk, the small stack of books on the bedside table, and the large, ornate cross hanging above the bed.  
That bed.   
Frank couldn’t tear his eyes from it. A thousand dirty thoughts raced through his mind, even without his consent. He wondered if Gerard had ever slid a hand down his waistband, panting as he touched himself. In that bed.  
But as well, he felt a fondness run through him. There was something very intimate about seeing where someone sleeps.

He managed to snap himself out of his trance a moment later, and made his way over to Gerard’s drawers. He didn’t realise he’d been waiting to see something incriminating until he didn’t – just a bible, a row of collars, and some moisturisers. Well, okay then.   
Frank sighed, shaking his head at himself. If he wanted things to be okay between the two of them, he had to begin by acting normal himself. Gerard was trying (and failing), so Frank should too.

He sighed, sifting through the drawer until he found the bottle of the oil in the drawer. He snatched it and slammed the drawer, before fleeing from the room. He had the overwhelming feeling that the cross on the wall was staring at him, extracting his dirty thoughts to give to Gerard later.   
And God, the older man would never speak to him again if he knew.

When he returned downstairs, Gerard was lounged on the sofa, watching the TV intently. He looked so comfortable and content that Frank couldn’t help but find it endearing, smiling fondly as he passed him the coconut oil.

“Here you go, dude,” he smiled. Gerard grinned gratefully up at him and unscrewed the cap, squeezing a generous amount onto the red, irritated skin of his leg, groaning with relief as the skin was soothed.   
Frank smiled, moving around the sofa to sit comfortably next to him, leaning back and grinning.  
“S’at better?” he murmured. Gerard beamed.

“Much. Thank you,” he murmured, rubbing his own leg. He sighed, frowning down at the thick red band of damaged skin.   
“Fuckin’ thing. It’s been too long. I should have gotten a new one years ago. Just…can’t afford it,” he mumbled with a little frown.   
Frank felt his heart squeeze at the soft, defeated look on his face. Maybe, though, the thing that hurt the most, was that he seemed totally resigned. He knew this was the best he’d get, and there was no fighting it.   
It wasn’t fair, how that worked. Gerard was pure and sweet, and _good_. It was almost impossible to find people who were so genuinely wonderful, yet here he was. All he ever tried to do was be the best man he could, and he got repaid with feelings he didn’t want, and an injury he didn’t deserve. Even his house, for all its homeliness, had signs of wear and age.  
Frank realised then why purity was so important to Gerard. It was all he had.

“What about your insurance?” Frank asked weakly. Gerard smiled sadly, looking almost pained.

“Wouldn’t even cover half.  It’s just not in the cards. God-“ he bit his lip, shaking his head gently. “Maybe I should just… I could use a chair. They’re cheaper, and it can’t go wrong,” he said softly. Frank sighed, moving a little closer. He wasn’t sure if he was comforting Gerard or himself.

“You could. But is that what you want?” Frank asked. Gerard sighed.

“I…no. In a word, no. I have friends who use them, and they swear by ‘em. But I’m too old to learn how to do all that now. I’m good at using my leg, even broken as it is. It’s sort of too late for me,” he murmured, averting his eyes. Frank sighed, touching Gerard’s hand.   
He was relieved when the other man didn’t pull away, but instead looked up and smiled softly at him.

“You’re not that old, Gerard,” he murmured, stroking his thumb gently over Gerard’s hand. The Priest smiled again, but it was even weaker this time.

“I appreciate you saying so. But I am. I can feel it. I’m so… _old_. God, when the hell did that happen?” he mumbled. Frank slid his hand into Gerard’s slowly, not taking his eyes off the other man.

Gerard hesitated for a second, and then allowed him to take his hand, entwining their fingers together. Frank swallowed hard, and tried to seem composed and calm.   
He wasn’t though. Of course he wasn’t.

“You’re not old, Gerard. I…you’re not as old as you think. I promise,” he smiled. Gerard bit his lip and – oh, God – he blushed, batting his eyelashes a little.

“No?”

“No. I promise. You’re still real pretty,” he smiled. Gerard ducked his head and grinned, peeking up at him through his eyelashes. He looked so, so sweet. And really, he looked very young when he was being sheepish.

“I’m pretty?” he giggled, looking at him fondly.

There was a moment – just a split second – where Frank just thought ‘oh fuck it’. Gerard was close enough, the mood was right. He could practically feel the air vibrating around them from the pure want between them. It was like his heart was being attracted to Gerard’s by a powerful magnet, threatening to burst through his cage.   
He could tilt his head up and kiss him. He could.  
But he didn’t.

“Yeah, Gerard. You’re very pretty.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Father? Can I ask you something?” Frank asked one Sunday afternoon. He was lounging on the man’s sofa, sipping a can of diet coke while Gerard sat by his desk, drawing furiously, his leg leaning against the wall.   
Gerard smiled and manoeuvred himself around to face Frank.

“Alright. Only if I can ask something after,” he murmured, tilting his head to the side.

Things had been weird between them in the following two weeks. Not ‘bad’, necessarily. But strange. Frank spent pretty much all of his free time after school and on the weekends with Gerard – with, of course, the exception of band practice on Mondays. They were friendly – mostly. Sometimes Gerard would become drawn and cold, and that was okay – Frank just let him have a couple of days to himself, and then they’d be okay.

They’d flirt sometimes, but it was generally unintentional – at least, on Gerard’s part. Frank was still hopeful, even if he knew that he couldn’t have him.   
That’s what brought him to this moment. Mia reminded him helpfully that he still hadn’t asked Gerard about what had happened the last time he’d been tempted to break his vows. And while Frank didn’t _really_ want to hear it (not that he’d be jealous), he knew it was potentially very helpful.

“Ah, can you come over here?” Frank asked with an apologetic smile. Gerard rolled his eyes and sighed as if it were a great issue, but smiled. He grabbed his stick from the floor and gestured to Frank, who obediently rose to his feet to assist him, wrapping his arm around his waist.

He’d like to say that he’d gotten over the excitement that ran through him every time he got to touch him like this, but he hadn’t. He felt the sharp jut of his hipbone, the feminine swell of his waist. He got to smell that heady, yet sweet scent, so close to him, filling his nose and his brain and making him dizzy.   
And then it was over. He slid Gerard down onto the sofa and sat next to him, smiling fondly. Gerard looked amused, but nodded.

“Go on,” he murmured. Frank sighed for a second, thinking about phrasing before he spoke.

“Have you ever…ever been tempted? Y’know, to break your vows?” he asked softly. Gerard clearly hadn’t been expecting that. His eyebrows raised and he looked taken aback. Almost pained, from the way he winced. He dropped his eyes, a blush blossoming under his cheeks as he chewed at his lip.

“Uh. Frank I mean…we’ve…talked about this-“

“Oh, no. Not me. I didn’t mean me. I meant…y’know, before,” he clarified. Gerard relaxed, but only marginally. He was still visibly tense, and Frank was a little worried that he’d offended him.   
After a moment, though, he replied.

“Once,” he murmured. Frank nodded and glanced up.

“Yeah? What happened?” he asked softly.   
Gerard bit his lip, before he sighed, waving a hand gently.

“He was…he was training to be a Priest,” Gerard said softly, wrapping his arms around himself. He had a faraway, almost dazed look in his eyes. He wasn’t even in the room anymore – his head and his heart, at least, were a thousand miles away, in a land Frank knew he could never visit.   
“I was meant to be training him, but instead we got close. Really close…”   
He let out a bitter breath.   
“Too close.”

Gerard leaned back, scratching absently at the faint wounds along his thigh as he thought.

“Nothing ever happened. We were all talk. We were gonna run away together and leave the Church. But in the end, he couldn’t do it. He said that God was everything, and that he couldn’t abandon everything he’d worked for. So I let him go,” he shrugged softly.   
“I didn’t even get to kiss him,” he murmured, his voice laced with regret. 

Frank thought he’d have been okay hearing that. But maybe that’s because he didn’t think it’d be so romantic and sad and tragic. He was hoping for a lust-filled, unrequited crush. Not losing the love of his life.   
Frank collected himself and managed to glance over to him.

“You miss him,” he whispered weakly. Gerard smiled fondly.

“I do. And…and I don’t. I think he made the right choice, for both of us. And it taught me a lesson,” he said firmly. Frank chewed his lip and took a breath.

“That being?”

“I shouldn’t be swayed by temptation,” he murmured thoughtfully. Frank sighed and leaned against the sofa, glancing up at the ceiling as he fought tears.

“I guess…it’s a good thing we’re just friends, huh?” Frank muttered. His tone wasn’t bitter, per se, but it was a little cold and reserved, like he was choosing his words carefully.   
Gerard hesitated, but nodded with a soft smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s good,” he murmured unconvincingly.   
They were both thinking the same thing – but neither wanted to be the one to say it. So did what they always did in such situations – they let it die, and tried to move on.

 

It was a few minutes before Gerard made to stand up and, upon realising he couldn’t, frowned.

“Uh, Frank?” he asked, his voice dry. Frank turned and smiled politely.

“Yeah?” he replied, still stung by their conversation. He wasn’t sure why it’d bothered him so much. He’d dated people before. It was no big deal.   
Besides – they weren’t _dating_. Just friends. 

The smile Gerard gave Frank was equal parts adorable and sheepish (and of course, all the more adorable for it).

“Can you uh. Can you make some more coffee? I don’t wanna have to put the leg back on just for that,” he hummed.   
Frank was struck, for a single moment, how comfortable this was. It was almost domestic, actually. The idea both pained and warmed him, like the heat emitted from standing too close to a fire.

Frank nodded and stood up, walking past Gerard as he did.   
For whatever reason, and in a way that was almost beyond his control, he let his fingers run through Gerard’s hair as he passed. At first, he marvelled at the soft texture of it, even with the wiry grey hair wrought throughout it.   
And then his mind caught up with what he was doing.

His first reaction, of course, was to jerk his hand back in horror. However, he stopped when he realised what Gerard’s response was – and that came in the form of the Priest sighing happily and actually nuzzling into the touch.   
There was something vaguely feline about it, the man’s eyes half shut as he sighed. It seemed as if he’d melt entirely into the sofa as he let Frank touch him, content with their interaction.   
Frank, too, was content. More than content, actually – his heart felt like it was going to burst from his ribcage. He couldn’t believe this was actually allowed. For a moment, he searched in his internal encyclopaedia of the rules of platonic touching, but came up blank. This was so new.

After a few moments, and as if nothing had happened, Gerard pulled away and smiled fondly.

“Coffee,” he reminded him softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.   
That fucker.

 

Frank brought the coffee in a few moments later, avoiding eye contact with Gerard as he set his mug down (two scoops of coffee, three of sugar, a quarter of milk), before sipping his own.   
Gerard, evidently, noticed his not-so-casual avoidance, and gave a little laugh.

“Frank. I was there too,” he said pointedly. His directness shocked Frank to the point that he actually found himself wondering if they were thinking about the same topic. From the highly amused look in his eye and the smirk on his lips, he assumed they were.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk about it,” he mumbled. Gerard gave a soft chirp of a laugh, and shook his head.

“Frank. You patted my head. It’s not like you put your dick in my mouth.”

Oh. _Oh._ That sentence could have definitely been a contender for the most attractive thing Frank had ever had said to him – it was certainly the most erotic. The latter effect was, undoubtedly, only exemplified by the mischievous twinkle in Gerard’s eyes. It almost seemed like the kind of glint that might appear in the eyes of a person who was about to tell you their deepest secret.   
Frank realised quickly that it wasn’t entirely unreasonable to assume that that’s exactly what Gerard had planned to do – but not through words. His body language was right – the gentle part of his lips was right, and God, the soft pant of his breath was right too. Gerard was – whether he had identified it himself yet or not – considering kissing him. Or was, at the very least, excited by the prospect.

“Frank?” Gerard murmured, looking at him with a fond expression. Frank swallowed hard, busying himself with taking a sip of his drink, but nodding to Gerard to continue.   
The older man smiled softly and, for a moment, seemed like he was trying not to laugh.   
“What do you want for your birthday?”

The question shocked Frank, at the very least. His birthday was, without a doubt, the very last thing on his mind at that moment. He glanced at Gerard with an incredulous eyebrow-raise that made the older man snort.

“Uh, damn. You don’t have to get me anything, Father, “ Frank murmured, playing with the dry skin around his nails. Gerard made a soft noise of protest.

“I’d like to. We’re friends. That’s what friends do,” Gerard insisted. Frank had to smile at that one, giving a gentle shrug. He took another sip of his coffee as he considered the offer.

“Draw me something,” Frank said decidedly. Gerard’s eyes lit up immediately, sparkling with an iridescent glow that made Frank’s heart actually flutter for a moment – which was entirely as annoyingly cute as it sounds.

“Oh. Yeah, I can do that. I can…for sure,” Gerard beamed, his voice seeming choked by how excited he was. Frank laughed and held his hand unthinkingly.   
Gerard held back intentionally, their fingers entwining gently.

 

“You’re real affectionate for someone who’s married to God. Won’t he get jealous?” Frank asked suddenly.   
Unfortunately for Gerard (and ultimately, Frank), he’d just taken a long sip of coffee, which found itself being sprayed over Frank’s chest as he laughed.

“Did you really just say that?” Gerard giggled, untwining their hands so he could mop at Frank’s shirt.   
Frank, unsuccessfully, tried to ignore the fact that Gerard was touching him.

“Yeah. I’m _serious._ How does that work?” Frank asked. He batted Gerard’s hands away; much to the amusement of the Priest, who went back to sipping his own drink.

“I’m not married to God, silly. That’s nuns,”

“Ah. I’ve heard that,” Frank murmured. Gerard smiled and nodded slowly.

“Yeah. Nuns are real intense. They’re more like monks than Priests, to be honest,” he mumbled. He glanced up and grinned.   
“I’m more…I guess I’m like _dating_ God. There’s less commitment, less pressure. But it’s still…pretty intense,” he murmured thoughtfully. Frank nodded, furrowing his eyebrows as he processed what he was saying.

“So you can’t fu-sleep with anyone. But you can flirt a little? As long as it’s harmless and doesn’t lead to any actual sex – or uh. Dicks in mouths, as you put it,” Frank teased with a wink.   
Gerard felt himself blush at that, dropping his eyes in the hopes of hiding it. Frank was too attractive for either of their own goods. It was as stressful as it was rewarding – but then, even the rewards were stressful.

“I mean…I guess yeah,” Gerard replied after a moment, finally gaining the courage to glance back at Frank.   
“Yeah. Actually, I could probably date. Just y’know, as long as it’s purely romantic. No sex there-“ he shrugged.   
“and I can’t get married. So...it’s limited, the things I can do. But it’s not _ridiculously_ so. Besides, I can ask for…oh, you know, a pardon. I guess.”   
Gerard didn’t seem to realise the weight of his own words, but they crashed down hard onto Frank, leaving him breathless.

“You can _date_? I thought…your vows…” Frank stammered. Gerard beamed like he’d been waiting for this question to arise; certainly, the confidence with which he answered seemed to precise to be off the cuff.

“I take a whole bunch of vows when I’m ordained. Vow of poverty, of celibacy, and one of like…uh, obedience.”   
Frank didn’t miss the way Gerard blushed and averted his eyes when he stammered out the last word. It painted a _very_ pretty picture in his mind as he pondered just how obedient Gerard was.   
He was almost too busy daydreaming to hear the rest of the explanation, but managed to shake himself out of it.   
“And I guess…they’re vows. But nobody really sticks to them. Honestly, we all just use our best judgement and don’t do anything intentionally that we _know_ is wrong. If we can help it,” he explained slowly.

“So…as long as what you do has pure intentions, you can do it? And that’s okay?”

“It’s not _okay_. But it’s tolerated. I’m not gonna get kicked out of the Church for having the occasional beer, or kissing pretty guys. I just can’t-

“Fuck,” Frank added helpfully. He was more than a little flustered at being called ‘pretty’, but he concealed it fairly well, given the circumstance.   
Gerard smiled and nodded, biting his lip.

“Exactly. I can kiss to show _affection_ , but not to show lust,”

“How do you differentiate?”

“Generally, we don’t. Which is why we avoid it. For example, I couldn’t kiss you now.”

“No?”

“No. Because it wouldn’t just be _affection_. It’d be lustful,” he glanced up at Frank and raised an eyebrow.

“And we can’t have that, hm?”

There was an unmistakable edge of teasing to his tone – almost like he was _daring_ Frank to try to tempt him.   
Past that, though, he was indecipherable. Frank didn’t know if he’d be rejected again – and God, he couldn’t go through that. He couldn’t destroy this when they were just getting started.   
So, instead of pulling away from Gerard’s charms, or accelerating towards them, he met him with an easy smile.

“No, Father. I don’t suppose we can,”

The blasé response was more than worth the look of pure frustration and – strangely – relief that crossed Gerard’s face.   
To Frank’s surprise, though, Gerard actually responded to the teasing head-on. It made a refreshing change from his astounding habit of dancing around his problems like they didn’t exist.

“You’re not planning on stopping, are you?” Gerard hummed, dragging a finger along Frank’s arm. The younger boy was more than a little bit distraught by the very obvious goosebumps that appeared along his skin as a result.

“No. Not…not unless you really want me to. And I’m not convinced that you do,” Frank murmured. Gerard smiled, but the gesture seemed wilted, like he was exhausted or very frustrated. Maybe both.

“I…I’m not sure if I’m convinced either,” he murmured, though he seemed to be directing it more to himself than to Frank. He looked up at the younger man and smiled softly, almost apologetically, and leaned his head on his shoulder.   
“Frank? Do you think I’m a bad person?” he murmured.

Frank smiled softly, nuzzling his cheek into Gerard’s mass of black hair, kissing the top of his head adoringly.   
He was more than pleased when, instead of rejecting the gesture, Gerard smiled and hummed.

“No. I think you’re sweet, Gee. I think you think too much about your soul. It’s like you said – we’re all going to Hell,” he smiled weakly. Gerard let out a breath of a laugh.

“That’s true. But I’m not afraid of _Hell_ , Frank. I’m afraid of hypocrisy. How can I stand on a pulpit and tell people how to live, when _I_ can’t be pure?”  
he sounded so distressed that Frank couldn’t help but feel a swell of sympathy. He couldn’t even imagine the turmoil and confusion Gerard was going through in that moment. It was finding out that everything you’d ever thought you needed was a lie. Gerard was a child finding out that his childhood heroes were crack addicts and backstreet whores, and loving them anyway. He was trying to understand, and come to terms, but he couldn’t.

“It’s good intentioned, though. You’re not having these thoughts because you’re bad. It’s because you’re human. You’re not hurtin’ anyone, Gee. You’re just…you’re trying to be happy. And that’s okay. If God really loves you, he’ll want you to be happy,” Frank hummed. Gerard thought about that for a moment, before shaking his head.

“No. No, it’s a test. He’s testing me-“  
His voice sounded weak and insincere even to his own ears. It was a cop-out and a lie, and they both knew it. Frank sighed and shook his head, grunting as he rose to his feet. Gerard missed his warmth, but didn’t protest.

“I’m not a test, Gerard,” Frank murmured as he slid his coat on.   
“I’m Frank Iero, and I’m eighteen years old, and I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. And that’s it.  There’s no divine plan, or rulebook. It’s me and you. If you want it,” Frank murmured.

Gerard didn’t reply. He was too busy fighting a war with himself, the battle raging violently in the confines of his skull. He didn’t even know which side he was on anymore, but he knew he was losing. Winning couldn’t feel this bad.

Frank just sighed and stroked Gerard’s cheek, tilting his head up a little so they were looking intently at each other. Gerard allowed the action with a soft sigh, leaning his head down into Frank’s palm.   
Frank only deliberated for a moment before he leaned down to kiss Gerard softly on the mouth.

Perhaps Gerard should have been surprised, but he wasn’t.  This was always going to have happened. There was no other way for their relationship to go – they both knew it, too. Gerard kissed back without a second thought, and smiled softly when Frank pulled back.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard whispered, covering Frank’s hand with his own. Frank sighed and kissed his forehead before moving towards the door.

“Don’t be. Just….just _think_ about this. I just want you to consider it. For me?”

“Of course,” Gerard said. Frank would have thought that he was just being dismissive, if not for the fierce sincerity that was prevalent in his tone. The younger boy nodded and slipped out of the house without another word, knowing that he’d be back in a few days regardless.   
He always came back to Gerard, even when (especially when) the Priest prayed he wouldn’t. Not even the wrath of God could keep him away.


	12. Chapter 12

“So what’s the deal?” Cooter asked one morning. They were finishing up band practice one Monday afternoon, and the aforementioned guitarist was draped across a lawn chair. Frank looked up, arching his eyebrows.

“The uh, the deal?” he asked uncertainly. Cooter nodded and sat up properly, looking at him intently.

“Yeah. Where are you these days? You haven’t hung out with us outside of band practice in like…like a month,” Cooter continued, waving a hand. Frank shared a concerned look with Mia who, helpfully as ever, just gave a little shrug in response.

Frank sighed, putting his guitar back in its case and looked back at Cooter.

“I’ve just been busy, that’s all,” he said gently. It wasn’t _untrue_. He had been busy. He’d been busy cuddling with his not-quite boyfriend.   
Although, in the week since their talk, there hadn’t been much of that either.  But in essence, that’s what he’d been doing.

“Too busy for your friends?” Cooter asked sharply.   
Mia, thankfully, came to his rescue then, standing up and standing between them.

“Guys, guys, come on. Frank has his reasons, I’m sure,” she cooed. Frank nodded and smiled at her.   
At that point, though, even Damien cut in with a little shrug and a reluctant tone.

“I mean…Frankie…you haven’t been around much,” he pointed out, his voice soft, but accusatory nonetheless. Frank looked to Mia again for help – but she was looking at him with a sort of sheepish expression, too. In fact, all of his friends were. They looked irritated, but also genuinely hurt.   
He swallowed hard, feeling guilt stirring in his stomach.

“I…I’m real sorry, guys. I didn’t realise that I was-“ he shook his head, biting his lip.   
“I’m sorry. Let’s do something this weekend, huh?” he suggested. He didn’t miss the way the group looked at each other, as if they were silently debating on whether or not to accept the apology. While that hurt, he knew he didn’t deserve any less.

“I guess so,” Cooter said eventually with a flippant one-armed shrug. Frank smiled a little and nodded, tugging his bag over his shoulder.

“That’s great. Thanks, guys. I promise I won’t blow it,” he grinned.

It was at that point that he glanced up and made eye contact with Daniel who, he noticed, had a faint shadow over one eye, the skin swollen and irritated. Frank frowned, looking at him intently until the other boy looked up. When he realised Frank was looking at him, he blushed and averted his eyes. Something about the (albeit brief) interaction made Frank deeply uncomfortable, a nervous, twisting feeling in his stomach. He made a mental note to mention it to him if he chance – which, at that time he didn’t. Almost as soon as their eyes averted, Daniel stammered a general goodbye and stormed out of the garage  
Nobody but Frank seemed to find it odd.

 

Frank wasn’t looking for an excuse to go see Gerard – but he certainly wasn’t complaining when he had one. Frank walked to Gerard’s house with a strong feeling of anticipation which, embarrassingly, he felt often when it came to Gerard. It wasn’t just the tension between them that got him excited (although, it certainly didn’t diminish the feeling); but the knowledge that, in a few moments, Frank would be able to actually _see_ him.   
That, at least, was something to get excited about, as far as Frank was concerned.

He arrived in the late afternoon, the sun just about dipping behind the soft, hazy clouds that slipped lazily along the horizon.   
Gerard was, to Frank’s surprise, already sitting just outside his house, leaning against the front door with a cigarette hanging from between his full lips.   
Frank raised an eyebrow in surprise as he approached, watching as Gerard smoked with ease.

“I’m guessing that’s not a Sin either?” Frank teased as he moved to stand just in front of the Priest. Gerard laughed and gave a little half-smirk as he sucked gently on his cigarette, letting the smoke pour from his nose.

“It’s not. Not _everything_ is,” he teased. Frank laughed gently, sitting down next to him on the porch.

“Only the fun stuff, then?” he smiled, taking the cigarette from Gerard’s hand. He didn’t even really think about what he was doing, as he brought the stick to his lips and took a deep breath. It was only when Gerard made a soft noise that he realised and met his eyes.

Frank gave an apologetic smile and handed him the cigarette back, feeling a blush blossom over his cheeks, his eyes falling to the floor.   
Gerard, surprisingly, began to softly chuckle, nonchalantly sucking on his cigarette again.

“Oh, hush. I don’t mind,” he said kindly, taking Frank’s hand in his own.   
That part, somehow, wasn’t surprising to Frank at all. He’d become very accustomed to Gerard’s gentle affections. They made him feel warm, any frustration immediately flushing away. Frank smiled, gently resting his head on Gerard’s shoulder.

“How was your day?” he asked lamely, rubbing the older man’s broad fingers. Gerard chuckled.

“It was okay. Do you wanna come inside?” Gerard asked, rising to his feet and offering a hand down to Frank.   
Frank didn’t hesitate before taking his outstretched hand, allowing himself to be hoisted up to his feet. He shrugged once he was upright.

“I can’t. I gotta do work. But ah, I actually wanted to talk to you,” he admitted.   
Gerard raised his eyebrows in faint amusement, leaning against the door. He waved a hand gently, motioning for Frank to continue.   
The younger man hesitated before speaking.   
“Uh. So I can’t hang out with you this week,” he said quickly.

Gerard didn’t seem upset, just slightly confused. He tilted his head, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Is it something I’ve done?” he asked coolly. His voice was very calm, as was his composure, but there seemed to be a faint wave of insecurity running through his veins. He seemed to be genuinely concerned, but appeared unfazed.

Frank bit his lip, shaking his head. A smile appeared across his cheeks despite himself. Gerard was very cute when he was insecure. It sort of reminded Frank that Gerard was actually interested in him – since they so rarely spoke about it.

“No, Gee. It’s not you at all. My friends were mad that I haven’t been hanging out with them, and I guess they’re right. So I’m gonna try and be there for them all week. And uh, that’s the weekend, too. So I guess I’ll see you next week?” he said gently. Gerard nodded and smiled.

“Yeah, that’s okay Frank, I understand,” he said coolly.   
“Besides, I wouldn’t want them to find out about our little love affair,” he said teasingly, his eyes sparkling mischievously.   
That, understandably, made Frank’s jaw drop a little.

“W-what?” he breathed, blinking slowly.   
The light from the falling sun glimmered in Gerard’s eyes, giving them a mischievous twinkle as he tried, very hard, not to laugh.

“You’re so easily flustered, Frankie. It’s cute,” he murmured, stroking his hair. Frank still looked flabbergasted, his eyes wide.

“Why do you keep _teasing_ me?” Frank whined. Gerard laughed softly.

“Because it’s fun. And easy,” he shrugged.

“Do you mean it, though?” Frank asked, his heart thrumming in his chest. Gerard was quiet for a moment, before leaning in and kissing the corner of his mouth.

“See you soon, Frankie,” he murmured, slipping into his house, leaving Frank confused, gobsmacked, and more than a little aroused on his porch.

 

“There he is!” Cooter called happily as Frank approached them the following evening. They were all sitting in the park, sitting on a makeshift picnic blanket made out of hoodies.

Frank grinned and raised a hand in greeting as he approached his friends, sitting down between Damien and Daniel.

“Yeah, yeah. I told you I’d be here, didn’t I?” He smirked. Mia rolled her eyes, leaning back on her elbows.

“You can’t blame us for being worried, Frank. You’ve been AWOL for weeks,” she pointed out. Frank glared at her. He found this comment particularly frustrating, because she _knew_ damn well why he hadn’t been there.   
Of course, she couldn’t _say_ that, so he partially appreciated her dedication to the ruse.

Frank waved a hand dismissively, grabbing a can of coke from his bag and taking a long sip.

“Yeah, well. I’m here. So stop bein’ lame,” he chuckled, leaning back. The group seemed generally glad to have him there and, for a moment, he felt bad about having neglected him – if that’s really what they thought. Sure, he’d had a legitimate reason, but this was nice. There was something very refreshing about being able to just _be_ , without the fear of being caught, or trying to work out where he stood. He knew his friends loved him, and he knew that he belonged with them. That’s something he knew that he’d never get with Gerard, even if they did take things further.   
And that, of course, was a big ‘if’. To take things ‘further’, that would imply that where they were was an actual defined location, which Frank wasn’t entirely sure it was.

He felt very confused, then, and a little dazed, so he tried to ignore the thoughts.   
Instead, he focused on the dim sunlight warming his cheeks, and the grins of his friends in the dying light.   
They mattered to him, more than he could tell them. Gerard, for now, was remembered only by the occasional fluttering of a hummingbird trapped under his ribs.

 

Being away from Gerard for a whole week was unnerving to Frank. But what bothered him the very most was the break in routine. Normally he’d go to school, stop by Gerard’s, and be back home for dinner. It was an easy pattern to live by – and a satisfying one, too. It meant he got the most out of his day.

Gerard was smart. Really smart. Smart enough that, if Frank had a homework problem, or needed something explained to him from class, he was the one to go to. He wasn’t one for Math, Frank learned, but was proficient in Science and English. Not only that, but being a Priest, he was oddly good for moral guidance. It was a good arrangement – Frank got his company and guidance, and Gerard…  
Well, Gerard got to be a teasing fuck. Obviously.

That’s not to say, of course, that Frank was a wreck without the older man. Quite the opposite. He began to go to his friends’ study sessions, which mainly involved sitting in someone’s living room with cans of whatever on the table, trying not to get stains from their food on their unread textbooks.   
There wasn’t a hell of a lot of studying going on, granted, but it was fun nonetheless. Besides, with his studying sessions with Gerard, Frank knew a lot of it anyway, so he could partially justify his lack of concentration. 

It was during one of these sessions that Frank found himself alone with Daniel for the first time since noticing his black eye. The bruise had faded, but he still seemed shaky and unusually quiet. So much so, that he actually jumped when Frank spoke to him suddenly.

“Hey, man, are you-

“I’m okay,” he said firmly, not meeting his eyes. Frank swallowed and touched his shoulder, feeling his stomach knot when he flinched.

“I don’t need you to tell me. I just…want you to know that you can, okay? No matter what. And if you need somewhere to crash, or anything like that-

“Thank you,” Daniel mumbled softly. It seemed genuine, though, despite its shy delivery. Frank, understandably, was tempted to push him for answers, to try and work out what was happening. But he knew from experience that that wasn’t any good. He just gave him an encouraging smile, squeezing his shoulder.   
Daniel, for one, seemed to relax when he realised that Frank was going to drop the subject, which was enough of a reward that Frank didn’t bring it up again.   
Eventually, the rest of their friends filtered back into the room, and Frank ended the conversation with a knowing look and a smile.  
His worry didn’t go away, but Daniel seemed more at ease, which was a fair consolation prize.

 

Embarrassingly enough, Frank woke up very early on Sunday – like he normally would. He even made to get out of bed, until he remembered that he wasn’t going to Church.

He and his friends had made plans that evening to have a movie night at Mia’s. It was actually a weekly occurrence for the group but, obviously, Frank hadn’t been around for a while to be a part of it. His Sunday evenings were usually preoccupied with watching Gerard draw, or listening to him talk, or helping him apply various creams to his swollen leg.   
It sounded dull when he thought about it objectively, but there was something magnetic about Gerard that made it all so thrilling.

Regardless, Frank slid himself back into bed, feeling his body relax into the mattress.  
In some way, he supposed he was pleased for the extra time in bed.   
This whole ‘being social’ thing involved a lot of exertion that Frank wasn’t interested in, nor used to.

 

Frank woke up again around lunchtime and, per his usual (pre-Gerard) routine, slid out of bed, still in just his underwear, and went downstairs to have whatever was in the fridge.   
What he didn’t count on, though, was his parents already being back from Church.   
A quick glance at the clock revealed the time to be two in the afternoon – far later than Frank had originally thought.

Despite his better judgement, Frank sat down on the sofa with his Mother, and asked, oh-so-casually, how Church was.

He felt his stomach twist when he saw her face drop.

“It was fine. Father Way seemed…distressed, though,” she mumbled. Frank tilted his head, trying to seem interested, but not overly so.

“Distressed? Like…what do you mean?” he asked. His Mother shrugged, glancing away from the TV.

“Just…unfocused. He seemed kind of angry, actually. It ruined the whole thing, in a way,” she said, her voice full of regret. Frank swallowed, rubbing his hands along his jeans.   
Was Gerard mad at _him_? He’d seemed so cool about it when Frank had mentioned not seeing him. He couldn’t be mad, could he?

Frank found himself standing up without really making the decision to. He knew he had an obligation to his friends – and he’d be there. But he needed to check on Gerard first.   
Besides his minor (major) obsession with him, Frank also knew that Gerard didn’t really have anyone else – not that he knew of, anyway. If the older man was in trouble, then he’d have to deal with it on his own, and Frank wasn’t content to let that happen.

Frank never dressed up for Gerard. Maybe it was all the time spent pretending not to have a crush on him, or maybe it was just that he didn’t really need to. Today was no exception – in fact, he probably looked worse than usual, because he was rushing eagerly to see him.

A good ten minutes after he made the decision to leave, Frank was rushing out of the house, shouting a vague excuse to his mother as he made his way to Gerard’s house.   
The mid-autumnal air swept against his face, like icy tendrils caressing his skin. He ducked his head, but it didn’t do much to hold off the chill that forced itself onto his skin, despite the layers of clothes he’d piled on.

Eventually, with reddened hands and nose, Frank arrived at Gerard’s door. His mind was flooded with pitiful images of the man curled up on the sofa, eating a tub of ice cream and feeling sorry for hmself.

The reality couldn’t have been more different.

Gerard came to the door several minutes later, his face set in an mask of irritation. When he saw Frank, however, it transformed, before settling on surprise. Pleasant surprise, Frank assumed.

“Come in,” Gerard said tersely, holding the door open for him and walking back into the warmth of the house. Frank was taken aback by his abruptness, but he did as he said. It would probably be good for Gerard, having someone to talk to.   
Not only that, but Frank was more than a little bit eager to see him.

“So I he-   
Frank didn’t even get to finish his sentence before he was swiftly pressed against the wall, his air leaving him in a heavy rush.   
“ _Oh_.”

“I’ve had a really, really shitty day,” Gerard growled, pinning Frank to the wall. His eyes were dark and hungry, his jaw set in a cold, hard line. Frank felt simultaneously concerned and aroused, a warmth building in his lower stomach.

“Y-yeah?” Frank stammered.   
“Uh. Why?”

Gerard laughed bitterly at that, biting his lip as he shook his head in pure disbelief.

“I’ve given up _everything_ for them. I’ve given up booze and sex and _love_. Everything,” he hissed.   
“And y’know what? It’s not even…fuck. It’s not even worth anything. Because those _bastards_ …”

Frank frowned, stroking Gerard’s cheek with the tips of his fingers. It seemed to calm him down slightly, but not enough. He still trembled with rage.

“What happened, Gee?” Frank whispered. Gerard looked at him, his eyes becoming more sad than angry – but the fire stayed burning in the back of them.

“They’ve been stealing money,” he croaked.   
“The other Priests. They’ve been taking money. A-and it’s killin’ me, because I’ve been trying so hard to be good, and then they just _do this_. It hurts. It’s like this was all for nothing.” The words left him in a rush, and Frank looked at him with a sympathetic frown.

“I’m so sorry, Father. Is there anything I can do?” Frank asked weakly. When Gerard looked up again, he looked positively predatory. Frank felt a shiver run down his spine. Gerard held him tighter, fingers curling around his bicep.

“You know there is,” Gerard breathed, sliding a thigh between his legs. Frank swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as he tried to consider what to say to that. He didn’t want to say no. He wanted so badly to be able to finally act out the fantasies that had been brewing in his mind.   
But he also knew that he couldn’t. Not now. Not like this. Not until Gerard was certain.

“N-not that. I can’t…I can’t fuck you,” Frank murmured. He was being presumptuous, and was momentarily worried that he was reading too much into it.

“Why not?” Gerard asked simply. Frank swallowed hard again.

“Because you’re upset. I’m not gonna…not when you’re upset,” Frank murmured. Gerard’s eyes softened and he nodded, pulling  away a little. Frank saw the red burst across his cheeks, and realised that he’d _embarrassed him_. Frank shook his head and held his arms, pulling the Priest closer.   
“No. No, I won’t fuck you. But um-“ he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Gerard’s.

The Priest was stiff for only a moment, before relaxing, his eyes fluttering shut as he kissed him back, his hands moving into his hair.

It took only seconds for the kiss to get heated.   
Almost like the flick of a switch, the men were suddenly panting and grinding, their hands too tight in each other’s hair, Gerard’s hips thrusting lazily at Frank’s, who thrusted right back.

“S-sofa,” Frank gasped, grabbing Gerard by the collar and dragging him into the living room. Gerard grinned and stumbled after him, his eyes alight and wild. He seemed younger, almost, like his desire was pumping youth into his veins.

Gerard laughed, pushing Frank down onto the sofa, climbing on top of him. His body shook slightly, but not from nerves – in fact, he was _laughing_. Not at Frank, by any means. He was just laughing with pure, unbridled joy. Frank beamed up at him, stroking his hair.

“Fuck. Fuck, we’re doing this, aren’t we?” Frank breathed.   
Gerard raised an eyebrow and shrugged flippantly, kissing him deeply, before breaking away and giving him a breathless reply:

“Well, shit. We’re doing _something_.”


	13. Chapter 13

Frank just stared up at him for a moment, his mouth dry. He licked his lips, batted his eyelashes, but still made no move to actually do anything. His heart was in his throat. He didn’t know what the Hell he was supposed to do.   
Gerard, however, didn’t seem to be so struck. He grinned and leaned down to kiss him again, cupping his cheek.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Gerard whispered, rocking his hips forward, burying his face in Frank’s neck. The teenager could feel his sharp stubble against his jaw and whined.

“M-me too, Gee. It’s all I’ve been able to think about. But uh. Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure, Frankie. So sure,” Gerard whispered, moving so their cocks were pressed together. Gerard was painfully hard, erection straining against his jeans, while Frank was still twitching excitedly, gradually stiffening.  
Gerard let out a soft, embarrassed noise, before gently rocking his hips forward, moaning at the friction.  
“Ah. Oh my God,” Gerard breathed.   
Frank let out a soft whine and rocked his hips up too, albeit somewhat hesitantly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want this – because God, he so did. It was just that he was _scared_. He didn’t want Gerard to reject him and push him away again.

His thought was interrupted, once again, by Gerard claiming his mouth.   
He’d gotten used to kissing Gerard like you got used to drinking coffee. It was natural. He didn’t have to think about it. But then there were kisses _like this_. Gerard’s mouth seemed to be everywhere at once, his body pulsing with an ethereal light and warmth as he rocked urgently against Frank, practically humping his leg like a horny teenager. The kiss was clumsy and at times too fast, too hard. Frank felt his teeth being pressed harshly against his own bottom lip- but he didn’t care. He kissed back like he was chasing his wildest dreams down Gerard’s throat.

After a moment, the older man groaned, moving his face away from Frank’s, and pressing eager kisses down his neck, still rocking his hips clumsily forward.   
He bit down suddenly, and Frank arched, his fingers tangling in Gerard’s hair.

“Oh G-God. Like that,” Frank breathed, licking along his bottom lip. Gerard  giggled, hand moving to Frank’s jeans.  
The younger boy hesitated for a moment, worrying his lip with his teeth.   
“You sure, Gee?”

“I’m sure. We’ll just take it slow,” he murmured. He glanced up, hazel eyes flashing in the gentle glow of the low-lit room.   
“If that’s what you want?”

Frank replied, of course, by kissing him hard, moving his hands down to help Gerard as he fumbled with his jeans. The Priest laughed, pulling back as he undid the buttons on his own shirt, casting the garment onto the floor.   
Frank beamed as he kicked his jeans off, watching them pool on the floor. Frank sighed, pressing the palms of his hands against Gerard’s chest.

“You’re pretty,” he whispered. Gerard laughed and stroked his cheek, smiling fondly down at him.

“Not half as pretty as you. C’mon,” he said, tugging on his shirt, “take it off.”

Frank laughed and rolled his eyes, sitting up a little as he pulled his own shirt off, biting his lip as he revealed his chest to the older man. Gerard grinned and leaned forward, immediately flicking his tongue against one of Frank’s nipples.   
The younger man sighed, arching slightly as he leaned back against the sofa. He let his hands flutter to Gerard’s waist, pressing his lips together.

“Your turn,” he panted. Gerard pulled back and laughed, undoing his own belt without hesitation. He arched an eyebrow.

“Y’know, you’ve seen this one before,” he teased. Frank rolled his eyes as he helped him tug the jeans off, pushing them onto the floor.

“I’ve never seen you like this while hard for me. Can I take your leg off?” he asked, immediately reaching for the edge of the plastic. Gerard snorted.

“That’s not a phrase commonly heard in the bedroom. But uh, yeah. Take it off,” he said, a faint blush shading across his cheeks.  
Frank only smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek as he began to slide the leg gently away.   
He pretended not to notice as Gerard’s hand fluttered hesitantly to his own crotch. He couldn’t, however, ignore the soft gasp he made.

“Are you okay?” he asked, dropping the leg to the floor. Gerard nodded, biting his lip.

“I haven’t touched myself in…in years. I mean. I’ve thought about it, sure. But I haven’t- oh God,” he whispered. Frank smiled and straddled his hips, wrapping his arms around his neck.

“Well, now you can. As much as you want. But I’d sorta rather you touched me,” he beamed. Gerard raised his eyebrows and kissed him deeply.

“You’re gonna…I mean. You’ll have to help me,” he murmured, stroking his cheek. Frank nodded and rubbed a hand against his own crotch.

“Of course. Start slow. Just-“ he climbed off his lap and sat next to him. “Just touch yourself, okay?” he murmured, his hand moving more confidently across his length, pronounced in his tight boxers. Gerard let his tongue dart out along his bottom lip and nodded slowly.

“I can do that,” he breathed. Gerard swallowed and brought his hand down to touch himself, his eyes fluttering shut. A gentle huff of air left his parted lips as he rocked his hips gently up.   
“Ah. Feels so good,” he whispered. Frank beamed, watching him with heavy eyes.

“Good. Keep…like that. God, Gerard, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” Frank panted. He hesitated, before gently sliding his hand into his boxers, groaning when he wrapped his hand around himself.   
Gerard let out a soft squeal, eyes widening.

“Frankie?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“C-can I see? Please?” He whispered. Frank let out a shaky, breath of a laugh.

“You wanna see my cock, Father?” Frank whispered huskily. Gerard groaned, his hips bucking up into his hand.

“I do. Show me. Please, Frank.” His voice was strained and needy, his cock twitching eagerly against his hand. Frank could see the very tip peeking out from the top of his boxers, and the small wet patch from his precum. Frank groaned, eyes flicking up as he pushed his boxers down. He heard Gerard’s faint gasp, and Frank looked at him with fond eyes.

“I’m so hard for you, Gerard,” he breathed. Gerard swallowed hard, biting his lip.

“I…me too…” he mumbled. Frank grinned and moved over to kiss him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Gerard seemed stiff, but softened a little when Frank kissed him. He sighed, pressing his hand against the younger man’s chest, Frank’s heartbeat fluttering under his fingertips.   
“Are you sure this is right?” Gerard whispered. Frank smiled.

“I really do. It feels so right, Father. C’mon. Just kiss me. I’ll lead you through it,” he grinned. Gerard let out a laugh and nodded, leaning forward to kiss him again. Frank moaned against his lips and moved his hand down to the other man’s waistband.   
“Can I?”

“Please.”

Frank smiled and gently tugged down Gerard’s boxers. He felt the side of his hand brush against his cock and whined, pulling them down to his thighs. Gerard let out a shaky breath.

“This feels so weird,” he laughed, biting his lip. Frank kissed the tip of his nose and smiled.

“Don’t think, Gerard. Just feel, okay? I’ve got you,” he murmured. Gerard swallowed and nodded, smiling fondly.

“I know. I trust you,” he whispered. Frank grinned and leaned forward to kiss him again, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Gerard kissed back more fervently this time, his breath coming in eager pants. Any shame or guilt he may have felt was cast out of his mind. Frank was all that mattered now. He was all he needed, and God, he needed him.

Frank broke away after a moment, panting hard, his eyes dark and hungry. The way he looked at Gerard was almost predatory, and sent a chill down the Priest’s spine.

“Touch me,” Frank breathed. Gerard swallowed hard, his eyes widening.

“I don’t know how,” he whispered back. Frank smiled and took his hand, moving it down to his cock.

“Just touch. Feel me,” Frank told him, his voice choked with desire. Gerard took a shaky breath and nodded, wrapping his hand around Frank’s cock. Frank gave a soft moan, eyes flickering closed.   
“Oh God. Yeah, like that, Gee. Just touch me like that,” Frank whispered, thighs spreading as he leaned his head back against the sofa. Gerard nodded and hesitantly began to move his hand up and down, his eyes constantly flickering to Frank for some sort of response. He wanted this to be perfect. Needed it to be.

Frank let out a loud moan, arching his back. He put one hand on Gerard’s thigh, feeling the soft skin between his fingers.

“Oh, fuck, yeah. Fuck, Gerard. Let me touch you,” he panted. He opened his eyes and looked at Gerard with a softened gaze. Gerard’s face heated up, a blush spreading under his skin, and he shrugged softly.

“I…um…” he made a soft whimpering noise, averting his eyes, but not moving his hand away from Frank. The younger boy sat forward and cupped his cheek.

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay. Baby. I’m gonna take care of you – I’m gonna make you feel good,” Frank assured him, thumb skimming over his face. Gerard nodded very slowly.

“Okay. I…okay,” Gerard whispered. Frank smiled and kissed him as he moved his hand to wrap around Gerard’s cock. He let out a soft laugh.

“You’re so big, Gee,” he murmured. Gerard whined against his mouth, his hand resuming its pattern along Frank’s length. Frank let out a groan and started to stroke Gerard. His movements were more rhythmic and confident than the older man’s.  Gerard let out a needy whine that made Frank shiver, biting down hard on his lip.   
“God, you sound good,” Frank beamed, leaning forward and kissing him. Gerard laughed, curling a hand in his hair.

“G-glad you think so – _ah_ ,” he moaned. Frank moaned, shifting so Gerard was underneath him again. The older man looked up, still stroking Frank eagerly, his lips parted.   
“I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner,” he panted.   
Frank grinned and kissed his neck.

“Oh God, I wanted you so bad. I thought about you every night,” he breathed. Gerard whimpered and nodded

“I thought about you too,” he whispered, kissing his jaw. Frank groaned and grabbed his ass, rubbing his cock against his hip. Gerard whined, bucking his hips up.

“Oh my god, Gee. I wanna fuck you so bad,” Frank panted. Gerard  made a short, surprised noise and looked up at him.

“I…have you-

“I’ve fucked someone before. Have you?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’ve fucked,” he mumbled, cheeks reddening. Frank nodded and kissed him again.

“Top or bottom?”

“Wh-what?”

Frank grinned, kissing him softly and looking at him with a fond gaze.   
“Do you uh, take it or give it?” he smiled.   
Gerard widened his eyes, pressing his lips together as his face reddened. He was almost sure Frank could hear his heart as it pounded in his chest.

“Oh. Um. B-bottom. Bottom,” he mumbled, averting his eyes. Frank grinned and pulled back.

“Oh, that works out great,” he laughed, leaning in to kiss his neck.   
Again, Gerard seemed sort of stiff and reluctant, but not unhappy. In fact, he let out a soft gasp and wrapped his arms around Frank’s neck. He wasn’t _not_ enjoying himself – but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. He felt safe, and he trusted Frank, but this was so weird to him. For the last decade, he’d been telling himself that the exact thing he was doing was wrong and immoral – and now? Now he could barely control himself.   
  
Gerard just nodded, looking at Frank with wide eyes as the younger man pulled back.   
“Do you mind if I don’t wear a condom?” he asked, voice electric with excitement. Gerard laughed weakly, sitting up slightly. It was all very overwhelming.

“I don’t mind. But uh, I don’t have any…any lube,” he mumbled, blushing hard. Frank smiled.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got this,” he murmured, kissing him softly. Gerard nodded weakly. Frank gently spread Gerard’s thighs apart, pushing his good leg up a little.   
He looked him in the eyes as he sucked his own finger into his mouth, giving him a heated gaze.   
Gerard let out a soft yelp of surprise and moved his hand down, gently playing with his own cock.  
Frank moaned, smiling around his finger as he rubbed it around Gerard’s ass. The man stiffened, but didn’t stop him.  
“Tell me if you need me to stop,” Frank murmured. Gerard just nodded, averting his eyes to the cross on his wall.   
He felt a wave of guilt in his throat, but swallowed it. He wanted this. He wanted Frank.

Frank let out a soft noise as he gently pressed his finger into Gerard. The older man gasped, grabbing the sofa as his back arched.

“Oh…oh…” he whined

“That’s it, baby. So good,” Frank breathed. Gerard whimpered, eyes rolling up. They fell, unfortunately, back on the cross, and he felt another wave of guilt and panic.   
  
Frank continued to slide his finger into him, and was almost to the knuckle, when Gerard grabbed his wrist.

“Frank. No,” he breathed. Frank stopped, looking up. He seemed…confused, but mainly concerned.

“What? Am I hurting you?” he asked gently. Gerard shook his head. He felt tears at his eyes, embarrassingly enough.

“No, I just…”

“Gee?” Frank whispered, stroking his cheek. Gerard felt the first tears slip down his face.

“Please. I can’t. I can’t do this, please stop,” Gerard breathed. Frank bit his lip and nodded, sliding his finger out of him. He glanced up at the Priest with soft eyes.

“What can I do?” he whispered. “You want me to leave?”

“No. Don’t l-leave me. Just…” Gerard rubbed his eyes, trying to hold back his tears, and failing horribly. Frank sighed and wrapped a blanket around the older man, hugging him close.

“It’s okay, Gee. I understand. I know,”

“It’s so stupid. I should be able to. But I can’t. I can’t…forget who I am. I’m a Priest, and I have to…I have duties. Responsibilities.”

“But Gerard, if you’re not happy-“

“I am happy. Frank, being pure, and following God’s plan _does_ make me happy. Even if it comes with sacrifice. Even if I can’t…do this,” he said gently. His voice sounded disappointed, yet firmer than it had all night, and Frank knew he meant it. The younger boy shifted, a little embarrassed, but held Gerard close to him.

“But the other Priests. They stole all that money. Why do they get to break the rules and you don’t?” he asked gently. Gerard smiled and squeezed his hand.

“They don’t. They’ll be punished. Someone else’s sin shouldn’t put me off my path,” he said in that soft-spoken, yet assured tone he used during his sermons. Frank closed his eyes.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I really did want you,” Frank whispered. “I want you still.” Gerard nodded and rested his head on Frank’s shoulder with a gentle sigh, curling around the younger man.   
He was quiet for a few moments, before he spoke, barely audibly:

“I’m sorry.”


	14. Chapter 14

For a few days after the incident, Frank had been terrified of what Gerard would be like. That sort of thing was definitely something that might set off his religion-based panic. While the younger boy fought the urge to visit the Priest, he also fended off anyone’s questions about his strange behaviour.   
The only person he actually told, of course, was Mia, who replied very eloquently with a shout of –

“ _you fucked a Priest?!”_

To which, of course, Frank had to explain that he didn’t fuck a Priest. He fingered a Priest. While Frank thought the distinction between the two acts was necessary to establish, Mia was too busy being astounded.

“But Frankie, Frankie. You’re missing the point here. You’ve been inside a Priest. Inside his ass. You. Fucked. A Priest,” she said, eyes widening.   
Frank was immediately happy that they were in the privacy of her bedroom. He grabbed the bag of Doritos that lay between them, rolling his eyes as he chewed one.

“It really wasn’t like that. And besides, he made us stop, remember. No getting lucky for me,” he sighed, batting his eyelashes. Mia snorted.

“You know it’s gonna happen again. You just gotta ease into it. Maybe go for some dry humping first, yknow? Blow him. I don’t know,” she said, waving a hand. “Whatever it is you do to penises,”

Frank chuckled, leaning back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“I don’t know, Mia. I don’t…I’m not too sure that I want it to happen again,”

“What?”

“I just. I don’t know. I don’t want being around me to make him feel bad. I’m okay with just hanging out with him, y’know? I don’t need sex,”

“But you do want to sleep with him?”

“Well, yes. Yeah. Of course I do. He’s…wonderful. But I think things are better like this,” he mumbled. Mia looked at him for a moment before sighing, shaking her head. She sat up, tugging her hair into a loose bun, before crossing her legs and glancing at him.

“Why don’t you ask him what he wants? I mean – maybe he’ll be okay with it. And at least if he says no, you’ll know for sure,” she said, taking a handful of Doritos from the bag. She shrugged a little flippantly, delicately sliding each  chip into her mouth, one by one. Frank pressed his lips together and nodded slowly. She did have a point. As painful as it might be to take the rejection, he knew he had to at least try to clear the air. If he didn’t, their friendship could be at stake, and Frank didn’t know if he could handle that.  
Actually – for that matter, he knew he couldn’t. As strange as it was to admit to himself, even now, he’d become very attached to the older man. He didn’t want to have a life without him. Not now. Not when they’d grown so close.

“I hate it when you’re right,” Frank breathed.   
Mia just replied with a smug little smile, before sliding another chip into her mouth.

 

Frank knew that, since he and Gerard were becoming more ‘official’, he had to be more careful. He only spent two evenings a week with the Priest, and invested far more time into his friends. That, for the most part, warded off their questions. And while Frank did miss Gerard terribly on those days (even if he’d never admit it out loud), it was really refreshing to reconnect with his friends. He’d forgotten how much fun he could have, sitting in a supermarket car park and smoking cheap blunts, yet still somehow getting so high, he swore he could see the universe in the pavement.  His fingers split and grew calloused from guitar playing, his stomach aching from masturbating too often. So when he did visit Gerard on Wednesday evening, he was filled with ailments and sickness, and Gerard was the antidote. He’d breathe him in and let him fill his blood stream, sweeping away the drug-addled haze and the tightened muscles from orgasmic contraction. His eyes focused, his fingers still aching, but growing soft against Gerard’s lips. Seeing Gerard was “hi baby”, and “guess what I saw today.” He’d sit next to him, maybe rest his head in his lap while the thin, spindly fingers caressed his hair. He’d kiss him unapologetically, but excuse himself to the bathroom if he thought he was going too far. They were everything they could have been just then, and it was enough and not enough. Gerard called him ‘my darling’, and Frank called him ‘baby’. Gerard would sometimes whisper ‘you’re my little snuggle bear’, and Frank might call him his ‘sweet baby boy’; but that was only with the lights out, where neither could see each other speak.

For a couple weeks, that’s all they were. Shadows blending into the dark, whispering longing wishes into each other’s cavernous ears.   
Until that one Wednesday.

“What’s going on here?” Gerard asked. He was resting with both legs on Frank’s lap, while the younger boy gently rubbed along his thigh. Frank, not expecting the interruption, looked up in vague surprise.

“I’m…reading?” he said, waving the book in his hand. Gerard laughed, giving him a fond smile.

“No. I mean. Y’know. What’s happening with you and I, hm?” he asked gently, playing absently with Frank’s fingers. Frank looked surprised – though maybe not as surprised as he should have.

“Priests can’t date,” Frank pointed out, setting his book on the coffee table. If this conversation was happening, Frank wanted to give it his entire concentration.   
Gerard smiled and leaned back, shrugging non-committedly.

“We can. You know that,” he corrected.

“You can. You just can’t fuck. And I actually think dating a dude is automatically vetoed.” Frank pointed out, delicately kissing Gerard’s fingers. Gerard laughed at that, shifting to move a little closer to Frank.

“Are you mad? That I can’t fuck?” he asked softly.   
“I know I messed it up last time.” The combination of his despondent tone and his dejected expression made Frank’s heart squeeze.

“Hey, none of that. I’m not mad, Gee, I promise. I wouldn’t have wanted to do it if you weren’t 100% certain it was what you wanted,” he paused and grinned,   
“Besides. I got to see what you look like when you’re horny. So that’s…good enough for me,” he cooed teasingly. His heart thrummed when Gerard blushed, grunting as he shoved Frank a little.

“You’re so awful to me. Here I am, pouring my heart out to you, and you’re being mean,” he sighed dramatically. Frank giggled and shifted so the older man was in his lap. Gerard was significantly larger than Frank, so was heavy, but the younger boy didn’t mind too much.

“I wanna date the shit outta you,” Frank beamed. Gerard blushed and hesitated for a moment before nodding very slowly.

“I’d like you to date me,” he murmured. He tilted his head. “You’d be okay with having a boyfriend –ah, - twice your age? And you couldn’t tell anyone. Plus, I mean, I ca-

He was cut off by Frank’s mouth pressing insistently against his own. Gerard let out a little surprised squeal, but soon kissed back, his lips turning up into a soft smile. He relaxed, a hand moving to gently cup the back of Frank’s head.

When they pulled away, Frank’s eyes were wide and alight with excitement.

“So…so this is a thing? You and me?” he asked brightly. That was what sold it to Gerard. The excitement bursting in his eyes, the broad grin across his cheeks. Frank wanted this. And God, Gerard wanted it too. He could reconcile the guilt later – he was tired of pretending.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re a thing. Uh. Boyfriends,”  he beamed. Frank took both his hands, his eyes glittering.

“This is so fucking…”

“Good?”

“Punk.” Frank answered. Gerard snorted and rolled his eyes,  pulling back a little.

“It’s not punk if you call it punk. Punk,” he beamed. Frank flipped him the finger, but curled into his body, pressing his face to his chest.

“Y’know what’s real punk?” Frank asked, beaming.

“mm?”

“Fucking Priests,” Frank answered succinctly. Gerard leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of Frank’s head.

“interesting concept. I’ll get back to you on that,”

“you’re a tease,” Frank whined. Gerard giggled, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around them both, burrito-ing them together, so every inch of Frank was pressed against Gerard. He definitely didn’t mind.

“I’m not a tease. I’m not allowed to do things on certain moral grounds, but don’t abstain from conversing with you about it in a seductive manner that suggests intent,”

“So…teasing,” Frank said, clearly pouting. Gerard leaned forward and kissed him gently on the mouth.

“I’m sorry, boyfriend,” he grinned.   
And really, how was Frank meant to stay mad at that?


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the lack of update - i've been busy with work and university! Hopefully I'm back for good now!

“You surprise me, Gerard,” Frank said one afternoon. Gerard looked down at him from the footstool he was standing on, and beamed.

“I surprise you? How so?” he asked, fixing a decoration onto his front door. Frank hummed and leaned against the wall, gesturing a little vaguely to the house.

“I mean. Isn’t supporting the witchy-spooky-haunting season a little…un-Catholic?” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. Gerard rolled his eyes and grabbed the pumpkin, setting it on his doormat.

“Isn’t having sex with other men a little un-Catholic too?” Gerard retorted, not turning around, but smirking to himself. Frank snorted, taking a pull of his cigarette.

“You’d have a point there, if we were having sex. Which, by the way, we’re not. Trust me. I’d have noticed,” he huffed. Gerard grinned and stepped down off his stool, a little shakily, before leaning in to kiss Frank gently.

“My apologies,” he smiled. Frank sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically.

“You should be sorry. You…you damn Saint,” he grinned. Gerard kissed him again.

“I’m hardly a Saint. Maybe… maybe compared to you. But that’s not saying too much,” he smiled, nuzzling into Frank’s shoulder. Frank grinned and leaned in for another kiss, but Gerard pulled back, smiling weakly.   
“We should go inside if we’re gonna cuddle, baby. I don’t…wanna get caught,” he murmured, cheeks blossoming pink. Frank sighed and gave an almost sad smile.

“Ashamed of me, Father?” he teased, albeit weakly.

“No,” Gerard answered, a little too quickly. Frank arched an eyebrow.

“I was joking. But uh. Are you? Ashamed to be with me?” he asked quietly. Gerard, unfortunately for the situation, hesitated. Frank’s face crumpled a little, and the Priest let out a soft whine.

“It’s not because you’re you. It’s because I’m me, you know?”

“It’s not you it’s me? Really Gerard?” Frank snapped, taking a step back. Gerard sighed and caught his sleeve.

“Babe, it’s not like that. I’m a priest, and you’re too young for me. I’m not _ashamed_ of you, I’m ashamed…because of you,” he tried, looking at Frank for approval. The latter’s face, however, showed that the man had, once again, been unsuccessful. Fatally so.

“You’re ashamed because of me?” Frank spat, drawing back. Gerard was, at first, relieved to see that he didn’t seem angry. His heart fell a moment later, though, when he realised that Frank wasn’t _angry,_ because he was fighting tears. Gerard let out a soft whine and moved forward to hold his hand, but Frank snatched it back before he could, like he’d be burnt if he let the Priest’s hands fall on him.  
“No, fuck off. Fuck you,”  he said, shaking his head as he stumbled back a little. Gerard frowned and took a step forward. He was upset, then, that he’d left his cane inside. If Frank tried to leave, he wouldn’t be able to go after him for long.

“Frankie, I promise I didn’t mean it so bad. I adore you. Please, honey, come inside and –“

“And what? Be your little secret? Your filthy secret?”   
He shook his head, biting his lip.   
“I don’t want that. I want you. I want to be able to… to have you. Really have you. Why can’t I…” he shook his head again, this time with tears prickling in his eyes. Gerard looked resigned. What was he supposed to say? It’s not like he could make out with Frank in front of the whole town. He’d lose his job, his friends. He’d lose everything.  

And sure, Frank was worth it. He was worth…everything. But if he could have Frank _and_ his life? That was preferable. By far.

“You _have_ me,” Gerard insisted, cupping his cheeks. He kissed him swiftly, holding his face. He wasn’t entirely surprised, but was still hurt when Frank drew back, pushing on his chest. 

“Do I, Gee? Cause it feels like…it feels like I’m just borrowing you, y’know? You’re _theirs_. You belong to the Church, or to God, or whoever. But fuck, it’s definitely not me,” he snapped, turning on his heel and walking away from him.   
He knew it was unfair, but he walked at a pace that he knew Gerard physically couldn’t keep up with.   
He heard the Priest’s sigh of dejection, and the gradual stop of his heavy footsteps as he gave up.

Frank didn’t realise he’d been hoping for a miracle until it didn’t appear.

 

Normally, Frank would have been in an awful mood for the rest of the week – but, as always, Mia managed to save the day.

She rushed into the lunch hall the next morning, a broad grin on her face.

“Guess what, guess what, guess what?” she sang excitedly. Damien rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. He was leaning a little against Daniel, his arms straight by his sides. Daniel’s bruises were fading, and his eyes seemed a little more confident. Still, they flickered up a little nervously to Damien’s profile when the latter wasn’t watching.   
Before anyone else could speak, Cooter cut in.

“Does it have anything to do with the gig we’re playing on Frankie’s birthday?” he asked coolly. The rest of the band turned to look at him in badly-veiled surprise. He shrugged, waving a hand.

“I saw a poster for it in town. And by the way, Mia – not cool on designing posters without us,” he said bluntly; though, if you looked, you could see the veiled excitement in his eyes. Mia shrugged.

“They needed something quick, so I got my brother to throw something together. Sue me,” she said curtly. She turned to the rest of the group and smiled.  
“Basically, yeah. What he said. Frankie, if you’re not busy on your birthday, we’d really like you to play with us,” she said fondly.   
Frank considered it for a moment. He’d been wondering if Gerard had planned anything for the day – but, since they weren’t speaking currently,  he imagined not.

“I…yeah. Yeah, that should be okay,” he said brightly, leaning forward.   
Mia looked vaguely surprised, but not displeased.

“Yeah? You don’t have…y’know. Any _plans_?” she asked pointedly –nor subtly. The other guys noticed. They noticed that, just as they’d noticed how Frank was rarely around outside of school or band practise. But, thankfully, they didn’t speak up. Frank would tell them in time; they were sure of it.

“No. My plans got…” he shrugged. “Cancelled. Sort of,” he said, waving a hand. He gave her a look that clearly said ‘later’, and she nodded.

Mia turned her attention to the rest of the group and beamed broadly.

“So, is everyone in?” she asked happily.   
It was then that Daniel stood up, looking a little disturbed. He didn’t speak, just let his eyes fall over the group, before turning on his heel and leaving the hall.

A hush fell over the group of friends, each looking at one another in despair. Daniel was normally so quiet and calm – this outburst was more than out of character; it was downright shocking.

After a moment, Damien sighed, leaning in close.

“His older brother’s been smacking him around,” he said softly. If anyone else had said it, it may have sounded blunt, but Damien was always so _pointed_ , that the statement rang as nothing more than a gentle notification.

The group looked upset, but a little understanding. The year before, Frank recalled, Daniel had mentioned that he was excited about his brother moving to college. He supposed that he’d returned.

“Oh man,” Cooter murmured, showing an uncharacteristic display of sympathy. Damien sighed and nodded, wringing his hands.

“I’ve been letting him stay with me, you know? As often as he can. His Dad’s being a bit weird about it now, though. Thinks he’s gay,” Damien sighed and waved a hand. “As if that’s the worst thing he could be,” he added in a mutter.

Frank blew out air, shaking his head. He felt bad, for not noticing. He didn’t blame Gerard, but at the same time, the Priest did take up a lot of his time. He loved him – sort of. He loved spending time with him. But there was something a little _draining_ about spending all his time with a middle aged man, and certainly not around his closest friends.   
He smiled weakly.

“Should we go after him?” he asked gently.   
Damien shook his head.

“No. I think he needs to be alone. But, uh, Frankie. I was just…I think you should come to that gig. Daniel feels safe around us, and pretty much _only_ us. And….yeah. You think you could come?” he asked. His voice was firm, as if he was telling rather than asking, so Frank really couldn’t say no.

“Of course I’ll be there, Damien. I wanna help him,” he said sincerely. Mia looked a little apprehensive, but smiled warmly.   
Frank, however, didn’t miss the side-eye she shot him, and knew he’d be in trouble later.   
Or, at the very least, be forced into a deep, dragged-out gossip session, in which he spilled all of the intimate details between himself and his boyfriend.   
Not that the details were all that intimate.

 

True to his expectation, Mia cornered him after school, literally grabbing the strap of his bag to reign him close to her.   
For someone exceptionally tiny, she was unusually strong.   
Frank swallowed hard and looked at her nervously. She stared back for a moment with an expectant gaze.

“Well?” she demanded after a moment. Frank waved a hand.

“Well what?”

“Well, what’s happening with you and loverboy? Aren’t you spending your birthday together?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows.   
They were currently stood in the school’s parking lot. The stream of students was dying down, so they spoke in almost complete privacy.

Frank waved a hand, giving a dismissive shrug. With anyone else, he’d have been happy to just leave it there, but he knew Mia would push.

“We argued,” he said gently. Mia rolled her eyes, half glaring up at him.

“You argued? That’s why you’re not seeing him on your birthday? Because you _argued_?” She asked incredulously. Frank sighed, leaning against the wall. He ran a hand through his hair, staring intently out in front of him.  
He couldn’t go into it. Not now – not with her. He already knew exactly what she’d say. She’d tell him that he was being ridiculous, and that Gerard was _trying_. She’d tell him that the older man had so much more to worry about, and a hell of a lot more to lose, and that Frank needed to respect that, and understand that it might put a strain on things sometimes.

He knew she’d say all of that. He knew that her words would send him running back into Gerard’s arms. So he didn’t tell her. He just shrugged, ignoring the frustrated groan she gave.

 

Frank had very little will power, so he was impressed to the length at which he stuck to his guns. Several times, he caught himself walking past the church, glancing a little at the small house tucked away. But he didn’t go anywhere near it.    
He knew, by that point, that he was being ridiculous. Gerard was doing the best he could. So what if they were being kept secret, or if they couldn’t fuck, or if they couldn’t go on dates? It was difficult, but Gerard was worth it, and Frank knew it.

Yet somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to go back on his childish decision. He wanted to make Gerard suffer. He wanted the Priest to feel what life would be like if Frank wasn’t around. It was selfish, he knew, but maybe things wouldn’t be so bad if Gerard left the church, once and for all. He remembered how he’d been just a few nights before. He’d looked so free and excited. He’d never seen him so much _himself_.   
But when he’d felt that guilt, he’d just closed up again. It wasn’t fair.

Frank, of course, was aware that Gerard was connected to the Church, to God. That he’d given his whole life to his faith. That being a Priest helped him connect to his brother again. But it wasn’t _fair_.

Before he knew it, Frank wasn’t angry anymore. He was just regretful, and missed his boyfriend.  
 His pride, however, kept him away for another week.

 

Even if Gerard hadn’t come to him, it was likely that Frank would have broken and gone to see him that evening.   
As it happened, that wasn’t necessary.

As the week had progressed, the blanket of fiery leaves that settled on the floor only grew, the air becoming tight and cold, biting at people’s fingers and noses. The houses became strewn with orange and black, the grotesque faces of jack-o-lanterns peering out from windows and porch ways.

For these reasons, rather than just his birthday, Frank adored Halloween. It was the only time of the year that made him feel excited, in the way people often did for Christmas. It was magical, and he loved it.

Frank spent the morning with family, as always. Aunts and Uncles whom he hadn’t seen since the year before piled into their living room, handing Frank gift cards and envelopes bursting with money. They used to try to give him presents, but when he hit 16, the illusion shattered, and both parties were content with an envelope and a mumbled “happy birthday.”   
They didn’t leave until about three, and by that time, Frank only had a couple of hours before he had to go to the sound check for his gig.

He was upstairs, tuning his guitar, his outfit laid out on the bed, when he heard the knock at the door.   
He let out a faint groan. His Mother had left to get some last minute candy for Trick-or-Treaters, so Frank was left to face whichever forgetful relative was at his door now.

Frank hopped downstairs, humming softly to himself.  
He placed his hand on the front door, and momentarily, felt a shock. It was almost as if he knew who he’d find on the other side of the door.

Still, he gave a short gasp of surprise when he swung the door open to reveal Gerard standing there, a soft grin on his face.

The Priest wasn’t wearing his usual outfit. He was instead wearing a pair of comfortable-looking black jeans, and a dark red knit sweater. His smiled widened a little.

“Hi, Frank. Happy-

“What are you doing here?” Frank cut in. Gerard gave a little smile.

“It’s your birthday. I wanted to give you your present,” he murmured. Frank raised his eyebrows.

“My Mom isn’t home,” Frank murmured. He wasn’t sure why he was telling him, but felt like he should inform him anyway. Gerard smiled and blushed a little.

“Then may I come in?” he asked. Frank responded by stepping aside and gesturing into the home.   
Gerard nodded and smiled as he stepped in, resting on his cane as he made his way past the threshold.   
“This is nice,” Gerard hummed thoughtfully. Frank couldn’t help but smile, leaning against the counter.   
He didn’t know exactly where he and Gerard stood. They hadn’t spoken since their argument, but Gerard didn’t seem mad.   
Perhaps it was that divine forgiveness thing he had going on. Frank was grateful for it regardless.

“How do you know where I live?” Frank asked timidly. Gerard let out a gentle laugh.

“Your parents invited me over for coffee when I first moved in,” he explained. Frank accepted that – it was something his parents would do.   
Frank bit his lip and gestured to the cane.

“Can you walk upstairs with that?” he asked. Gerard nodded.

“I can,”

“Okay. Uh. Wanna see my room?”

Something flashed momentarily in Gerard’s eyes that Frank couldn’t quite decipher. The older man nodded.

“I do. Lead the way,” he smiled. Frank giggled and took his free hand, patiently leading him to the stairs. Gerard dragged a little as he rested on his cane, but kept up well.

There were only a couple of stops, but soon enough, Frank was standing in his bedroom.   
With his boyfriend.   
Who was twenty years older than him.   
And a Priest.

Gerard grinned, resting his cane against the wall.

“This looks like what my room looked like as a kid,” he whistled. Frank smiled.

“Yeah? Great minds,” he chuckled.

Gerard was quiet for a moment, before moving over to Frank and holding his hands.   
Frank sighed, looking into his boyfriend’s eyes. He was fairly sure what was coming.

“Are we okay?” Gerard murmured. His eyes were wide and hopeful, his teeth pressing gently on his bottom lip. It made Frank’s heart hurt. He’d been torturing him all week, and Gerard still wanted him.

“Of course, baby. Of course,” he whispered, touching Gerard’s cheek delicately. Gerard looked down and sighed, the soft prickles of hair along his cheek brushing Frank’s hand. He hadn’t shaved, but it looked oddly nice. It made him look a little older, which Frank wasn’t complaining about at all.

“I just…I thought that-“

“No, honey. I was wrong. I know how much you do for me, how much you’ve sacrificed. It’s just hard-“ Frank broke off with a shrug. Gerard looked back up.

“What?”

“I want you so badly. I wanna…I wanna be able to go on dates with you, and have sex with you, and do things that boyfriends do, and I can’t,” Frank mumbled. A faint blush spread across Gerard’s cheeks, and the older man laughed weakly.

“Can we sit down? That’s…I wanted to discuss that with you,” he murmured. Frank raised his eyebrows in surprise, but nodded, perching on the bed. Gerard sat down next to him, swallowing. He hesitated, before putting his hand onto his thigh. Frank smiled softly.

“What did you-

“Hush,” Gerard murmured, rubbing his thigh softly. He let out a shaky breath. “Hush. Let me just-“ he swallowed again, moving his hand up and against Frank’s crotch. The younger man let out a soft whimper, resting against Gerard’s arm.

“Oh. That’s what you wanted to talk about?” he laughed breathily, feeling himself harden against his boyfriend’s hand. Gerard chuckled, kissing his neck.

“More or less,” he smiled. Frank bit his lip.

“Is this my present, too?”

“More or less,” Gerard laughed against his skin. Frank sighed, relaxing completely into Gerard’s arm. The older man glanced up, pressing his lips together. He let his thumb swipe over the button on Frank’s jeans, before beginning to undo them, fumbling a little with the button and zipper, before nudging them down. Frank laughed and wiggled them down.

“You want ‘em off?” he murmured. Gerard nodded, continuing to kiss eagerly at his jaw and neck, arm winding around his waist. Frank whimpered and kicked the jeans off, a hand moving absently to rub himself. Gerard kissed his cheek and pulled back.

“I want it too. I want you. I want everything that comes with being yours,” Gerard whispered. He sunk to the floor  in front of Frank, and the younger man’s heart raced.

“Gee-“

“I used to be good at this,” Gerard chuckled, reaching up to slide Frank’s boxers down. His cock was mostly hard, standing against his stomach, leaking very slightly. Frank nodded.

“Baby. You don’t have to if-“

Gerard shook his head, throwing his boxers to the side.

“I want to. I wanna suck your cock so damn badly,” Gerard chuckled. Frank moaned and nodded, leaning back on his arms. He looked adoringly down at Gerard, spreading his legs a little wider.

“Please,” he murmured. Gerard let out a soft moan and leaned in, gently kissing along his thighs, his eyes fluttering shut as his teeth scraped against the soft, pale flesh. His lips skimmed the baby hairs growing along his legs, becoming thicker and deeper as he approached his crotch. The preist looked up through his eyelashes, and Frank felt – and saw- his cock throb. Frank let out a soft moan, his hips twitching upwards.   
Gerard pulled back for a moment, hand resting on Frank’s thigh.

“You’re sure?” he whispered. Frank nodded.

“I want you, Gerard,” he murmured. The Priest moaned and gently began to lick at his cock. His tongue was hesitant and a little unsure, but after a moment, he gave a low groan and moved his tongue in slow, fluid lines along Frank’s length.   
“Oh, oh god. That’s it,” Frank whispered, reaching forwards and tangling his hand in his hair. Gerard moaned, closing his eyes as he wrapped his lips around the head of his cock, moaning as he took him into his throat.   
The older man gagged a little, his teeth bumping against his length a little – but it wasn’t awful. It was better than Frank had expected from someone who hadn’t so much as looked at a cock in years.   
Besides, it was Gerard. Frank would love anything if it was Gerard.

Eventually, Gerard built up a rhythm. He wrapped his hand around his length as he bobbed his head up and down, his mouth and face wet from saliva and precum.

“Gerard, Gerard, oh, baby!” Frank gasped. Gerard was right. Frank could _feel_ that he used to be amazing. He was amazing now, even. Frank felt like his cock was being worshipped for every inch.   
Ironically enough, anyway.

Gerard let out a low growl, his tongue flicking along his length. Frank whimpered and tugged on his hair. Gerard let out a whoreish moan in reply, gripping hard onto Frank’s legs.   
The younger man let out a slow smirk.

“You like that? You into pain, huh?” Frank cooed. Gerard whimpered and nodded, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes.  
Reluctantly, he nodded very softly, and Frank felt his heart flutter.   
Oh. He hadn’t expected that.   
“You just wanna be a good boy, don’t you?” Frank cooed. Gerard moaned and nodded, more confidently this time, and continued to suck him, his head moving eagerly along his cock. Frank moaned and tugged hard on his hair.   
“Oh, oh, I’m close, I’m so close,” Frank whispered. Gerard whined and began to rub the younger man’ balls, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked him.   
Frank cried out, arching his back as he felt his orgasm pooling in his stomach.   
“Gerard, Gerard, Fuck-“ he let out a loud cry as he came hard into the Priest’s mouth.   
“Fuck, _Father_ ,” Frankie gasped.

Gerard pulled back only when Frank was beginning to go soft, the younger man splayed out across the bed, his breathing shallow and fast.

“Was that okay?” Gerard whispered.   
Frank grinned airily, nodding.

“That was perfect. You’re so perfect, and I lo-“ he stopped.   
Gerard beamed and kissed him.

“It’s mutual,” he whispered, nuzzling into his neck.

 

They lay like that for several minutes, Gerard’s erection slowly softening, Frank coming back into reality. Frank looked over to his boyfriend and curled into him, clutching at his neck.

“I love you,” he whispered. Gerard laughed softly, dancing his fingers along his back.

“You mean it?” he teased. Frank nodded, kissing his jaw.

“I mean it.”

“I love yo-

They were cut off by the sound of Frank’s phone. He groaned, sitting up and reaching into his hoodie. He picked up, leaning against Gerard, who pressed gentle kisses along his shoulders.

“Mmmm. Hello?” Frank murmured.  
Cooter’s angry voice snapped him fully back into consciousness.

“Frank, dude, what the fuck? We go on in 20 minutes, where the fuck are you?”


	16. Chapter 16

Luckily, Gerard had driven to Frank’s (his poor leg would never have made the entire journey), and so, once Frank was re-dressed, and they managed to get Gerard back downstairs, they simply hopped in the car, and Gerard drove Frank to the venue.   
It seemed like a good fix to the issue, but the younger man was still on edge.   
Gerard sighed, taking his hand.

“You’ll get there in plenty of time,” he assured him, squeezing his fingers. Frank shrugged.

“I know. It’s just…they’re gonna know I’m with you,” he said simply. Gerard glanced over.

“How so?”

“I’m late, and I turn up with you? That’s going to sound really suspicious,” Frank pointed out. The Priest shrugged, biting his lip.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. But this is your only option. And hey-“ he shrugged softly “maybe they’ll be okay with it, y’know?”   
Frank raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise.

“Be okay with me fucking a Priest?”

“We’re not-“

“A Priest twice my age?”

“Frankie, we’re-“

“A Priest I didn’t tell them ab-“

“ _Frank_. We’re not _fucking_ ,” Gerard snapped suddenly. The younger boy let out a soft noise of surprise as he turned to the older man. Gerard’s jaw was set in a firm line as he glared through the windscreen, looking incredibly irritated.   
Oh.

“S-sorry, I know we’re not. I know you’re…being pure and all. It was just a phrase,” he murmured.   
Gerard fell silent, looking  a little defeated as he continued to drive.  
Frank didn’t bother making any conversation after that, knowing it would just get shut down anyway.

 

They pulled up to the venue with 10 minutes to spare, the lights inside already on. Gerard glanced over at Frank.

“There. Run,” he said coldly. Frank touched his hand, wincing when it was pulled away.

“What did I do?” he asked. Gerard was quiet for a moment, before glancing over.

“We’re not fucking , Frank,”

“I know, I didn’t mean to-“

“No. We’re not fucking. I’m your _boyfriend_. We’re together. This is romantic, for me. It’s not about sex. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fuck you. But I know that I can love you,” he said.   
It hit Frank all at once, the mistake that he’d made with his words. The younger man frowned and touched his hand.

“I love you. I don’t care about the sex stuff, okay? I love you. You’re my boyfriend,” he said firmly.   
Gerard smiled and nodded towards the venue.

“You should go, sweetheart. I’ll pick you up tonight, and –“

He was cut off by Frank kissing him swiftly, holding his face in his hands. Gerard let out a soft, surprised noise, but kissed him back nonetheless, his eyes fluttering shut as he melted against his boyfriend’s body. Frank tugged back after a moment, his eyes soft.

“Come in with me,” he murmured. Gerard laughed.

“Darling, I’m too old for that,” he smiled. Frank shrugged.

“Who cares, huh? I wanna show my boyfriend off,” he giggled. Gerard ducked his head and grinned, clearly touched by his words.   
Gerard hesitated for a moment, before nodding slowly, the smile plastered onto his cheeks.

“Yeah, okay. Uh. You’ll have to grab my cane for me,” he mumbled. Frank nodded and slid out of the car. In a flash, he grabbed Gerard’s cane from the back, and moved around to the drivers’ side to help him out. Gerard looked absolutely blissful as he held onto Frank’s shoulder, allowing the younger man to guide him out.   
He looked over and smiled.   
“I love you,” he murmured, taking the cane from Frank.   
Frank, without a hint of reluctance, kissed him gently.

“And I you.”

 

When he reached the back of the venue, his friends were already standing there ready to go on. Their bodies, though, didn’t look excited, but very tense. Cooter’s fists were clenched, Mia’s hands were knotted in front of her, and even Damien shifted restlessly. The sound of Frank’s footsteps (or, more accurately, the click of Gerard’s cane) seemed to rouse them, and suddenly they were upon him.

“What the fuck, Frank?” Cooter began, charging towards him. He fell short, though, when he saw the Priest.   
“Sorry, Father,” he mumbled. His face crumpled in confusion a moment later.   
“Why is he here?” he asked.   
There was silence for a moment, as Gerard and Frank gazed at each other, trying to work out who was going to speak.

“Because they’re fucking,” Mia said sharply. Frank’s head whipped around to her, his mouth falling open.

“Mia, what the  fuck?”

“No, what the fuck to you. What the fuck, you’re always ditching us for him. What the fuck, you haven’t asked any of us how we’re doing in _months_ because of him. I could do it before, Frank, but not anymore,” she snapped.

Frank felt his stomach tighten, his heart thrumming fast and hard in his chest, like it might force his ribs apart. He looked to Gerard for answers, but the other man just looked…small. His face burned red, his eyes dropping to the floor as his form shook.   
He was clearly embarrassed – but even more than that, he was ashamed.

There was silence for a few moments.

“Is it true, Frank?” Cooter demanded, even his voice a little weak. Frank swallowed, but nodded.

“It’s true,” he whispered. He slid his hand into Gerard’s. “We’re together.”

Another moment of silence followed – this time, it was broken by Damien.

“We have a show to play. Frank, are you with us?” he asked, his tone clipped. Frank looked up and nodded.

“Yes. I’m…I’m not going to let you guys down,” he said firmly.   
The look on everyone’s face echoed the same thought : he already had let them down.

 

The show went as well as it could. They all knew the songs, and where to be on stage. The only thing missing was warmth. Each member was stiff and cold, and no one so much as glanced at Frank.   
The post-show buzz that normally wrapped around them was dull, almost non-existent as they left the stage.

“You guys are still invited to my place if you want,” Mia said as they packed away their gear.   
Frank didn’t have to ask to know that he wasn’t invited, and no one made any move to include him. Once his guitar was in its bag, he slung it onto his shoulder and looked to his friends – none of whom tried to make eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you. But this is why I didn’t,” he said curtly.   
When nobody replied, he let out a sigh and moved out of the room.

He was intending to look for Gerard, but realised there was no need when he felt a hand grab his arm.   
He twirled around and let out a breath as he was met with the face of his boyfriend, who looked pitying, to say the least.

“That was uncomfortable to watch,” the Priest chuckled, his eyes soft. Frank shrugged and smiled faintly, averting his eyes. Gerard cupped his cheek, turning his face to look at him. His eyes looked sad and solemn, like he was genuinely apologetic.  
“I’m sorry for all this,” he murmured. Frank shook his head.

“It’s not you. You know it’s not you. They need to understand-“ he waved a hand, feeling his eyes begin to water. Gerard pulled him close, pressing his lips to his forehead with a gentle sigh, his fingers combing through the boy’s hair.

They stood that for a few moments in silence, before Gerard pulled back slightly.

“It’s still your birthday,” he reminded him fondly. Frank sniffed and smiled weakly.

“I don’t feel much like celebrating,” he sighed. Gerard took his hand.

“Nonsense. Come with me,” he murmured, tugging him forward as he began to make his way through the venue. Frank just watched with wide eyes as he was pulled through, until they reached a bathroom at the back.   
It didn’t take a genius to work out what Gerard was suggesting.

“Really, Gee?” Frank giggled. Gerard shrugged, tugging him into the toilet. It was one of those one-stall toilets, that locked on the main door, and it was absolutely filthy.   
The seat was slightly off-hinge, the walls covered in stains, markers and ripped stickers.   
It had a certain vibe to it, though, and that’s what Gerard was looking for. He grinned as he locked the door, pushing Frank against the wall.

“I’m not a Priest tonight,” he growled, kissing along his neck. Frank let out a sharp gasp

“N-no?”

“No. Not tonight. It’s Halloween, baby, and I can be what I want. So tonight, I’m just your boyfriend. And you’re going to fuck me,” he murmured, biting his earlobe gently.

Frank let out a soft moan and held his back, rolling his hips up almost subconsciously.

“Yes. Yes, Gerard,” he chanted, the panic and sadness flooding out of him, as lust and love filled his veins.   
Gerard couldn’t cure this. He couldn’t take back what his friends had said, or the fact that it was absolutely true. But he could make Frank forget, and right now, that was what he needed. He needed to forget, until he could deal with the mess he’d made.

Gerard, of course, wasn’t as cool as he felt. It’d been _years_ since he’d had sex – he wasn’t even sure if he _could_. All those years of promises and divinity, and he was about to give it away, here of all places, in a filthy bathroom, with a boyfriend whose life had just fallen apart. It was hardly ideal.

Still, although things weren’t perfect, Gerard _did_ love Frank, and he really did want him. That’s what pushed him in the end.

Gerard pulled Frank into the stall with him and immediately kissed him hard, tugging him close. He was, admittedly, assuming Frank would begin gentle – but he was wrong. Frank immediately shoved him hard against the wall, growling into his ear.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered as he fumbled with his clothes, his breath hot against Gerard’s ear.  
Gerard grinned and melted against him, allowing him to undress him.

“Yeah, me too. Take it. Take me,” Gerard whispered, grabbing his shoulders. Frank smiled and, without a moment’s hesitation, pushed Gerard’s boxers all the way down. He beamed at him, reaching forward to stroke him.

“You’re hard,”

“I’m hard. I’m so hard,” Gerard whimpered. He still seemed a little stiff, but he was relaxing, and seemed to be genuinely comfortable around Frank.   
That, at least, was a good thing.

While Frank stroked his cock, occasionally kissing and nipping at his neck, Gerard began the task of undressing his boyfriend, undoing buttons and zippers, until he joined Gerard in being half naked, his boxers and jeans pooled around his ankles.   
Frank grinned, stepping out of his clothes and smirking up at Gerard.

“You got any lube?” he asked, half-teasingly. Gerard just snorted.

“Yeah, I keep it with my bible,” he retorted. Frank laughed and gently sucked two of his fingers into his own mouth, making eye contact with Gerard as he wetted them, making sure they were absolutely slick.   
He knew from past experience that Gerard was very tight – even more so, because of how nervous he was.

“You wanna-“ Frank mumbled around his fingers, gesturing to Gerard’s leg. The older man shook his head, breath coming hard and fast.

“N-no. No time. C’mon,” he murmured, pressing himself face-first against the wall.   
Frank smiled in amusement as he approached him, pressing his fingers against his ass and rubbing gently. The Priest hummed in pleasure, immediately pushing back – but Frank hesitated.

“Are you sure this is gonna be enough? I don’t want to hurt you,”

Immediately, Gerard nodded, his breath shaky.

“Just put it in,” he gasped.

Frank hesitated for only a second before he gently and slowly slid his finger into Gerard, relishing in the soft gasp his boyfriend gave.

“How does that feel?” Frank whispered. Gerard chuckled.

“Ah, perfect,” he said back.

In reality, it was a little painful, and more than a little uncomfortable, but Gerard knew it would ebb away to pleasure soon enough.   
Besides, it was _Frank_ , and that knowledge alone made it pleasurable.

The feeling of being filled again after all these years was strange to Gerard. It made his head swirl like it was in a time vortex, transporting him back to the days of his youth, where he used to hang around, underage and vulnerable, outside of bars, just begging men to take him in the alleys out back.   
It was the only way he could get attention, back then. But this was different. Frank’s hands were careful as he held his hips, fingertips dancing delicately over the jut of his hip bone, the other man’s body rocking up with urgency, yet still gently enough to not hurt him. Gerard moaned, grabbing the wall as he tried to push his hips back, his lips parted and eager.

“oh, Frankie. Oh my – it’s been _years_. It’s been so long-

“I can tell, honey,” Frank chuckled, leaning forward to press a loving kiss to his shoulder. Gerard smiled back at him, his teeth catching a little on his lip. Frank clearly appreciated the gesture, with the way his eyes widened.   
“You look so good. Your ass is so good,” Frank murmured, his voice dropping back to a husky purr. Gerard moaned, turning his head back around to face the wall.

“I love you so much, Frankie,” Gerard whispered, reaching back to hold his hand. The Priest couldn’t see it, but Frank’s eyes softened, a gentle smile crossing his cheeks.

“I love you too, Gerard,” he whispered, leaning forward.

As Gerard’s body seemed to relax around Frank, the boy got more confident, his thrust becoming deeper and harder, his hips moving faster, until he was fucking him so hard and fast, he was surprise the other man could stand. Gerard groaned as he felt Frank pound into him, his thighs trembling at the force.

“yes, yes, _yes,”_ he cried. He pressed his hand over his mouth so no one else could hear him, but at this point, he barely cared. So what if it was wrong? Frank was making him feel better than any divinity ever had.   
Gerard was getting older, and he was sick of being good. He needed this. He needed the deafening slap of skin on skin, the feeling of Frank’s fingers in his hair, the sheen of sweat that made their bodies slide together.  The feeling of burning pleasure in his stomach was more than he could handle. He knew he wouldn’t last long.   
Still, he wanted Frank to finish first.

The leg made things awkward; Gerard knew that. It was unsteady, making him occasionally feel like he’d fall over. Frank’s arm was looped around his waist, supporting him, and he _knew_ it couldn’t be comfortable. There wasn’t much else he could do, though. It was too late to take it off.   
One thing was for sure – Gerard was going to have one hell of a rash when he was done with this. Not that he minded. If anything, a little skin abrasion and a sore ass was the perfect way to remind him of this.   
Although, he doubted he’d be able to forget even if he wanted to.

Frank let out a shaking moan, his lips parting.

“Gerard, oh, I’m-“

“Yes. Yes, Frank. I need to feel it,” Gerard whispered back. He felt his eyes burning, but he couldn’t place the emotion in the haze of adrenaline and sex and sin. Frank made a weak noise, leaning forward and biting Gerard’s shoulder as, with one hard pump, he was cumming, his scream muffled into Gerard’s skin as he filled him up.   
Gerard was so focused on Frank’s orgasm, the way his cock throbbed in him, that he didn’t notice his own, at first. It’d been years and, surprisingly, it wasn’t that strong. It was a tightening of his stomach, a quiver of his thighs and a quick moment where his whole body felt on fire.   
And then nothing.

Well; he thought it was nothing. What actually happened, upon his orgasm ebbing away, was that he began to cry. But he didn’t notice that at first – his head was too busy and crowded with colours and explosions and Frank.   
The younger boy noticed immediately though and, for a heart-stopping moment, thought he’d hurt the Priest. He pulled out swiftly, taking the sobbing man into his arms.   
When the ringing in Gerard’s ears cleared, and he was able to hear again, he made out the gentle hum of Frank’s voice in his ear.

“-mean to. I just…oh, baby, please don’t cry. I’m sorry. We don’t have to do it again,”

Frank sounded very weak, his voice trembling with nerves and insecurity. Somehow, Gerard found it in himself to shake his head.

“I liked it,” he whispered, grasping his hand. Frank looked surprised, then elated, and then concerned.

“Then why-“

Gerard swallowed hard, wiping his eyes. He was silent for a few moments, leaning back against the wall as tears continued to spill down his face. He looked younger when he cried, but the lines of age were still wrought through his skin. He waved a shaking hand.

“I liked it. I…I am wrong,” he said slowly, as if working out the meaning of the words as he said them. Frank frowned, stroking his face.

“No. No, Gee, you’re not wrong, you’re-

“I have sinned. I’ve gone against everything I worked for, everything my brother died for…my whole life. It’s…gone. I’m gone-

“Babe, please-

“I’m impure. I can… _feel_ it. I can feel  you inside me and it…it makes me _sick_ ,” he whispered, face paling.   
Frank recoiled, a hurt expression on his face.

“Gerard, stop,” he whispered.   
The Priest didn’t stop, though. He couldn’t.

“I’m g-going to burn. I am a liar and a hypocrite. I threw away my whole life for a…a cheap moment of sin. For temptation, for pleasure,”

“Gerard, don’t,”

“I am dirty. I can never clean myself, I-“  he spoke again, but it was indecipherable through his tears.

Frank just stared at him blankly, feeling his heart wrench in his chest. His friends had left him, and now Gerard would too. He had no one.   
That wasn’t the worst part, though. The very worst, was that it hadn’t been the same for Gerard. Frank had been so full of love, and longing, and joy. He finally got to share his love and his passion with the man he adored. And now he watched as that same man repented for it, tortured himself. Frank was the one who felt filthy. He felt used and disgusting.

“Gee. Father. I’m going to leave now,” he whispered, backing away from the sobbing man. Gerard looked up, his face one of pure anguish.

“Don’t-“

“No. I’m going to leave now. And I’m not going to see you again. I’m sorry for this. I’m sorry for…ruining you. But mostly, I’m sorry that I ever loved you. Nothing good has come out of you and I,” he said, very slowly. Gerard looked like he’d been slapped, his eyes wide.

“You’re leaving me? Now?”  he whispered, looking horrified. “I need you,”

“No. You need your God. You need your Church. You need prayer, and bibles, and the memory of dead brothers. The last thing you need is me,” Frank said, moving backwards. Gerard scrambled to tug his pants up, heaving and trying to wipe his eyes as he did.

“I love you,” he gasped. “I’m so scared, you can’t-“

“If not for you, then for me. You’ve…you ruined everything. Being with you has been a curse. And I’m done. I’m sorry, and I love you, but I’m done,” Frank whispered. Gerard’s hand shakily reached out for his cane, fingers curling around the wood.

“Please, don’t-“

“Goodnight, Father. You’ll be forgiven by God. You’re a good man. But I won’t ever forgive you,” Frank whispered.   
He almost gave the Priest one final kiss before he left, but thought better of it, instead just turning on his heel and leaving the bathroom.

The venue was empty when he got out. Only a few people stood along the bar, and none were his band.   
That was for the best. He couldn’t do this now.

Frank’s heart felt heavy with the weight of his grief and his loss as he trudged home, his eyes fixed on the floor.  
His friends hated him, and the man he loved could never truly love him back.   
But hey. At least he was an adult now.


	17. Chapter 17

Sinkholes are a phenomena, involving the erosion and breakage of the ground which forms a sizeable chasm under the surface of the Earth, producing a visible colour change on the surface of the water, and a sizeable hole in the ground on land. Sinkholes are destructive, taking down entire houses and bodies of water, because nothing is able to remain supported atop one of these holes. The degradation of, say, a building into a sinkhole, would be gradual, but evident. The slight sagging of the walls, the inability to close windows and doors. The feeling of something being…not quite _right_. And then, before you know it, you and your entire life are buried six feet under,  looking up at the sky and wondering what the Hell happened.

Frank, that following week, was in the emotional equivalent to a sinkhole.

 

“You’re sure everything’s okay, Frankie?” his Mother asked, on the third day in a row of his missing school. Frank sighed, tugging the blankets up as he stared blankly at a spot on the floor, his teeth clinking gently against his lip ring.

“Yeah. I’m okay, I just wanna take a day off,” he said dully, his eyes not moving from the point. His Mother sighed, leaning against the doorframe.

“You said that yesterday. And Wednesday,”

“And I’m saying it today, too. Ma, I’m 18, I don’t have to go to school anymore. Not really. I just feel like being alone, okay? I’ll…start again Monday,” he grumbled, shuffling deeper into the warm confines of his blankets.   
Linda Iero looked exasperated, at a total loss as to what to do with her son. She’d seen him in depressive episodes before, but it didn’t help to soothe the discomfort she felt every time it came about.   
She seemed to deliberate for a moment, before reluctantly nodding.

“Okay. One more day. Frankie, you have to promise me you’ll go back on Monday, alright?” she sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.   
Frank could see she was exhausted, and in a way, he felt bad about it. In his defence, though, there was little that could be done, on his end. He had no friends, everyone knew his secret, and his boyfriend probably hated him.   
That last thing, of course, was the real kicker. Gerard had offered himself to Frank, in a moment of love and passion. The sex had been wonderful – Frank had never felt closer to anyone in his life, and he knew Gerard had liked it too. They were like two bolts of electricity, dancing inside a plasma globe, their strands of energy entwining in a bolt of pure love and joy.   
And then it was gone. In a moment, that glowing pink swell of light dimmed to black, and Frank was left blind and alone.   
Sick. Dirty. Impure.  Those were the words Gerard had used to describe their time together. The feeling of Frank moving inside him, the hot, burning ache as he throbbed inside him, their bodies moving together in an explosion of heat and light, and in an instant it was gone.   
Sick. Dirty. Impure.   
The words made Frank’s stomach turn, his body squirming further under the covers. He’d been so happy, and it was all shattered as those three words slipped from his boyfriend’s lips.

Though, he wasn’t entirely blameless. He knew that. Leaving Gerard, while somewhat justified, was certainly not the right way to go about reacting to the situation. Gerard was clearly scared, and panicked, and not quite himself – Frank should have stayed. He should have calmed him down, and spoken to him, and got him back home safely. If not for the sake of their relationship, then certainly just because it was _right_. Gerard had to rely on a cane to walk – the least Frank could have done was help him to his car.   
He’d been stupid. Gerard had been stupid, too.   
They were two damn stupid idiots, and that’s why they loved each other so much. Frank knew it, but something – be it his pride or his humility – wouldn’t let him admit it. Certainly not to Gerard.   
So that left him in his current condition. Avoiding the outside world, in the vague hope that the world would right itself in his absence, and he could pretend his life hadn’t fallen to pieces.   
Which, for the record, it definitely had.

 

True to his word, come Monday morning, Frank returned, albeit very reluctantly, to school. He didn’t make much of an effort with his appearance whatsoever, instead just dragging himself through the halls with the air of a wounded mutt. His pride was hurt, as were his feelings, and he did not feel, in any way, like socialising with anybody at all. He knew that at some point he _would_ have to face his old group of friends, of course, but he wasn’t looking forward to it whatsoever.

To his luck, and utter amazement, Frank managed to avoid the entirety of his friendship group for the first half of his school day. English, Art, Science and Math all passed without so much as a glance to any of his old friends. It was almost easy for him to pretend, momentarily, that there hadn’t been any friction at all. It set his mind at ease, even if it was temporary, so that when he finally did face them in the crowded lunch hall, he wasn’t so scared.

That’s not to say, though, that he wasn’t terrified. He was, definitely, absolutely frightened. But there was a little jump to his step as he made his way over to the usual table where his friends sat, his gaze unwavering and confident. When he got close enough that it was clear that his intention was to join them, his hands began to tremble slightly, causing his food to jolt a little on his tray, but he tried his best to seem strong even despite that.

Admittedly, Frank felt almost smug about the looks on his friends’ faces when he sat down in his usual seat. Mia didn’t even glance up, her eyes fixed firmly on her phone in a pointed gesture of ignorance. Cooter snorted, but didn’t make any effort to speak. Daniel and Damien looked a little shocked, but didn’t try to speak to him either.   
In the end, the lunch hour was spent with the group of friends sitting in complete silence. Occasionally, an accusatory, or downright curious, set of eyes would fall on Frank, but he pretended not to notice. He took some satisfaction in how uncomfortable he was making everyone feel, even though he knew it was a childish joy. Realistically, nothing would happen, on either side, until he apologised and offered an explanation. But for this one day, he was extremely satisfied with the results of his own pettiness.

There was one moment when Frank felt like he might want to make amends, but it passed swiftly. At the end of the lunch hour, when everyone was getting ready to leave, and the first sparks of conversations were made amongst his friends – of course, not including Frank – he felt eyes on him. Turning around, he saw Daniel looking straight at him, his teeth chewing faintly on his bottom lip, as if he was feeling indecisive. It didn’t take a genius to work out that he had something to say, but Frank really had no idea how to proceed. He didn’t want to overstep his boundaries – not when he was still unsure if he even _wanted_ to make his friends like him again.

In the end, it proved unnecessary to worry. Daniel approached him quietly while the rest of the group was walking away.

“Hey, Frank?” he said softly. It was only then that Frank realised that he hadn’t been spoken to all day. The thought was, at the very least, very depressing. Frank smiled faintly, leaning against the table.

“You don’t hate me?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. It was an immature, petty response, but it worked for how he was feeling.   
To his surprise, Daniel just shuffled, a little uncomfortably.

“No. I don’t hate you, Frank. I…I get it. I just wanted you to know that. Keeping secrets from your friends, especially if you don’t have a choice – it’s scary. So I understand why you did it,” he said softly, a little dent forming between his thin, blonde eyebrows as he tried to express himself correctly. Frank smiled a little.

“I’m glad,”

“You…shouldn’t have bailed on us. I know everyone was really hurt. You just…never wanted to be around us all of a sudden, and it was weird and made us feel super bad. But ah, I get it, now that I know why. I can’t promise everyone else will,” he spoke very diplomatically, and Frank appreciated it greatly. At least the kid was being honest, anyway.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll…try my best to make it better. Everything’s sort of a mess right now, and I don’t know how to fix it. And that’s scary for me, but I’m going to try.” Frank’s words came out in a sort of rambled rush, but Daniel seemed to be following it easily.

“I don’t know. I was…going to ask you something, but it doesn’t seem like the right time,” Daniel admitted. He shrugged.   
“I just want you to know that you’re not alone, okay? I still care about you. Damien does, too. It’s mostly just Cooter and Mia who are mad, but you know how _they_ are,” he mumbled. Frank smiled despite himself, clapping Daniel on the shoulder.

“Thank you. I’ll ah, I’ll talk to you later,” he said gently, his voice conveying the gratitude he was too afraid to show himself.   
Daniel, it seemed, understood. He smiled and gave Frank a half-hearted wave, before turning and walking pointedly out of the lunch hall.   
Frank was still alone, but he didn’t feel so lonely anymore.

 

The change was instantaneous. Sort of.  At the very least, Frank, over the course of the next week, began to make an actual effort to drag himself out of bed, go to school, and actually _try_. His Mother was clearly impressed and, to his absolute delight, stopped nagging him about getting his life together. That, at the very least, was one less thing he had to worry about.

In regards to his status with his friendship group – nothing really changed. For the first couple days, the interaction was the same as the first. The group sat in awkward silence, not giving Frank so much as a glance. Frank, at one point, was actually certain that they were secretly texting each other from across the table.   
If that wasn’t adding insult to injury, he wasn’t sure what was.

The only thing that seemed to be making the interaction easier, was that Daniel was, to his credit, interacting with Frank. It wasn’t often, and was usually only a couple words, but it eased the environment.   
By Friday, everyone was back to talking, albeit tentatively, and things were definitely on their way back to normalcy. Sure, Mia was still glaring at him with cold, guarded eyes, and he hadn’t actually had the opportunity to bring up her betrayal – but it was a work in progress. He didn’t want to push things too far.   
Things were looking up though, a little. In the sense that, perhaps Frank wasn’t quite in a sinkhole, but maybe in a very shallow canyon. Sure, he was miles below where he want to be, and likely trapped, but he could see the clouds without getting dirt in his eyes.

 

The only issue that hadn’t been yet on its way to being resolved was, of course, his relationship – or, in fact, his lack of one, as the current situation dictated.    
Sure, he _might_ get his friends back, maybe. If they could get over his betrayal, and if he could get over them dropping him like a heap of garbage. Maybe, eventually, he’d have some semblance of trust back with the group. But Gerard? How could he even go about fixing that? Did he apologise, or did he wait for Gerard to make the effort? He had no idea who was even in the wrong in that situation, so handling it was far beyond anything he was able to do. Whenever he thought about it, he could feel the floor breaking beneath his feet as he slid further into the abyss of his loneliness. That, truly, is what made him feel alone. His life was in shambles and he knew it, despite anything that may seem like it was looking up. His friends barely tolerated him – they wouldn’t care about listening to his relationship problems. His family didn’t – and couldn’t – know about Gerard, so that wasn’t an option.   
Ironically, the only other thing he could do was seek guidance from a Priest – and that, of course, was definitely not going to happen. 

Being alone wasn’t new to Frank by any stretch. He’d been bullied when he was a kid, which had pretty much put his idea of socialising as an entirely negative action. That was probably why he’d felt so lucky when he met Mia.   
The thought raised an uncomfortable lump in his throat, so he swallowed it quickly. He’d be fine. He’d manage. He’d always been alone – he was _good_ at being alone, wasn’t he? Loneliness was like riding a bike – you can surround yourself with good auras and friendly smiles, but as soon as your feet hit the pedals, your legs drag you into isolation, the bright scenery speeding past you into a blur of incomprehensible shapes and colours and sounds your ears cannot even begin to break into words. Least of all, words that are spoken to you.   
Frank was good at being alone. If abandonment was an Olympic sport, Frank would have a gold medal and something to actually be proud of; the word “failure” stamped in molten glitter for the world to see. He’d have a cabinet full of dark thoughts and sideways glances, and he’d display them to his audience of no one, with broad, sweeping gestures.

Frank wasn’t religious. If his actions in the past few months didn’t prove that, he wasn’t sure what did. His behaviour had been positively blasphemous. But if there was one thing he loved about Gerard, even now, it was that ethereal, dancing gold light that seemed to shimmer along his very bones. The glow of godliness radiated from his every pore, and it filled Frank with the first tremors of hope. Despite his anguish, if there was Gerard, there was hope.   
That’s how Frank found himself, that evening, kneeling on his bedroom floor, rosary wrapped around his fingers, his breath laboured and faint as he thought, desperately, of what to say. Whose forgiveness did he beg for? God? His friends? Gerard?   
In the end, the words that tumbled through his mouth, accompanied by a raw, frame-wracking sob, were simply   
“Oh God. Dear God, just bring him back.”


	18. Chapter 18

If things being ‘good’ is defined simply by them not being awful  - then things were definitely becoming better for Frank. In the week that followed, Frank made more of an active effort to be present with his friends, to actually _listen_ to them, and try to re-engage.   
The vibe he was getting now was certainly one of acceptance – more so than before, anyway. The group could, at least, tolerate his presence and would often even direct conversations towards him. It wasn’t the same, and it wouldn’t be, for a while. But with Gerard gone, this was the best he could do.

The only real kick in the teeth for Frank, was that he found out that the band had continued to practice in his absence. It came out as the group were walking home that Monday evening, and they all turned towards Mia’s, while Frank turned towards his.   
And then he realised.

“Oh. You guys… still…” he blushed hard, feeling very stupid. Of _course_ they’d continue. Why wouldn’t they? He was only rhythm guitar, after all. They’d be able to replace his parts.

Damien shrugged a little, rubbing the back of his neck, seeming at a loss for words. In fact, the whole group seemed collectively very uncomfortable. But, really – did they think he wouldn’t notice?   
To Frank’s surprise, it was Mia that spoke. She, of everyone, spoke to him the least, with only passing words, or occasionally a school-related question. Her focus on him now, therefore, made him more than a little bit hesitant.

“It’s not _personal_. I mean, not really. If anyone in the group had pulled the shit you did, we’d have cut them out. And I mean, Frank, we know you’re trying. It’s just…we don’t want to get left behind again,”

To Frank’s absolute mortification, he felt tears prickle at his eyes as he let her words sink in. The awful part was that she was right. It was he who had ruined everything, after all. The group had just snapped, fed up and sick of being left behind by him. As awfully as it was handled, and as much as Mia’s betrayal had hurt, he knew that the whole thing was, at its core, entirely his fault.   
He averted his eyes and nodded. He didn’t know what else to say, and it seemed no other words were needed. He just nodded, utterly embarrassed and ashamed, and began to walk away, his shoulders slumped in dejection.

He assumed the group was watching him go, but didn’t check for certain. He still had that little bit of pride, at least.

 

The very last thing Frank had expected that evening, was to see anyone from his group. After his embarrassing revelation, he assumed that they’d all be comfortable with a bit of space.  Hence his surprise when, in the late evening, he heard a knock at the door, followed by his Mother calling

“Frankie! Your friend’s here!”

Frank, for one horrible moment, thought it was Gerard. His heart thrummed in his chest and he actually felt lightheaded – he hadn’t decided what he wanted to say to the Priest yet. He didn’t even know if he wanted to address the issue at all. After all, it was probably far easier for them both if he just kept quiet and le the whole thing fade away. He knew, at least, that that was the most unselfish thing to do. Gerard would be able to move on, and go back to his purity and his divinity, and Frank could work on trying to fix the damage he’d caused.   
At the thought though, he felt a tight ache in his chest that revealed the truth. Frank could never do that. At some point or another, he was going to have to face Gerard.

By the time Frank got to the top of the stairs, he’d worked himself up into quite a panic. When he saw Daniel standing there, though, he felt the tension spill from him. It was okay – he didn’t need to deal with his ‘maybe relationship’ just then.

He began to smile, but it stopped dead on his face when he saw the state Daniel was in. The boy was trembling, looking like he’d been crying, and he was slightly bent over, as if injured. Frank swallowed.

“Come on up”, he said softly. Daniel looked up, a little startled, and nodded. He hobbled a little as he made his way to the stairs, and had some trouble getting all the way up, but once he was in Frank’s room, he at least, relaxed a little.

Frank closed the bedroom door and helped Daniel down onto the bed, biting his lip nervously.

“What’s going on, man?” he asked, sitting next to him. Daniel ran a shaking hand through his hair.

“M-my brother. He um. He moved back home a few months ago and he…he’s been beating me up,” he said weakly, his eyes darting around the room, as if he was afraid of being caught. Frank’s heart squeezed and he put a hand on his arm, his eyes soft and sympathetic.

“I’m so sorry. Have you told your Dad?” he murmured. Daniel let out a laboured breath and shook his head.

“’Course not. He’d kick him out and…and God, Frank. He’s still my big brother. I don’t want him to be homeless. I just…don’t know what to do,” he sighed. He tried to sit up, but grunted and stayed laying down. Frank nodded slowly.

“Have you told anyone? Any of the other guys?” he mumbled. Daniel nodded.

“Yeah. I…I did. I told Damien, and he wanted to beat him up for it. The thing is, that’d probably knock some sense into him, if someone came after him. He hates conflict, y’know? And I know Daniel is real big and stuff, but I….I guess I just feel nervous about him going alone,” he gave Frank a sideways glance. Frank’s lips tugged up ever so slightly when he realised that Daniel probably thought he was being subtle.

“You want me to go too?” he offered. Daniel nodded.

“Everyone ‘cept Mia, actually. I mean, not being sexist, cause she can really kick ass. Just… she’s so tiny. I think he’d try to hurt her,” he murmured. Frank winced at the visual, and nodded.

“That’s cool. Of course I’ll help you, man. When do you wanna-“

He was interrupted by a horn honking from outside the house. Daniel gave a very weak smile.

“Now, if that’s okay?”

 

Damien was driving, Cooter was lounging in the backseat. Daniel slid in next to Damien, to give him directions to his house, so Frank bit the bullet and slid in the back.   
Of all of the group, Cooter had been the one who’d been the most passive in regards to acknowledging Frank, so sitting next to him was definitely not particularly high on Frank’s list of things he wanted to do.   
To his surprise though, the other boy raised his head in a vague greeting and actually shifted over to give Frank some more room. Wow.

Frank tried to keep his surprise to a minimum and just nodded back drawing his seatbelt over and leaning back against the seat.  There were a few moments of silence, before Cooter leaned forward, resting between the seats.

“So, what? We go in, beat up your brother, then go?” he asked. Daniel gave a nervous laugh and shifted.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that. Just go in and yell at him,” he said softly. Damien sighed.

“I still don’t know about this. What if we just make him more pissed off and he comes for you again?” he mumbled. Daniel ducked his head.

“he won’t. I can almost guarantee it. He hates conflict. He won’t risk getting beaten up. ‘sides, other than Frank, you’re bigger than him. That almost automatically gains his respect,” he said, his lip pulling up a little in an ironic smile.

Damien sighed, meeting Frank’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. Frank did actually agree – he didn’t know Daniel’s brother. Maybe the confrontation would only make things worse.   
Still, he was walking on eggshells as it was, so he just shrugged and averted his eyes. It wasn’t his place to say, really.

 

They arrived at Daniel’s only a few minutes later. Damien stopped the car and sighed, turning back to look at his friends.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said simply. Cooter and Frank shared a look, but neither of them spoke. They both knew it wasn’t their place to speak.   
Thankfully, Daniel piped up a moment later.

“it’ll work, okay? We just gotta scare him,” he said firmly. The three shared another look, before Damien let out a defeated sigh and opened the door, sliding out of the car. Daniel sent a shaky smile back to the other two, before following.

For a moment, it was only Cooter and Frank in the car. The former sighed.

“Don’t think we don’t recognise what you’re doing. It means a lot,” he said, not meeting Frank’s eyes. For a moment, Frank was stunned. Cooter never said things like that. He was often a total closed book – it was a little jarring.   
Frank smiled weakly and dropped his eyes, pressing his lips together. He shrugged, then looked back up.

“I’m still your friend. All of you – even Mia. I’ve been there for you guys for years. And I wanna prove to you that I’m still there for you now,” he said gently. Cooter seemed lost for words for a moment. He nodded, then ducked out of the car. Frank took a steadying breath before following him out. Damien and Daniel were already approaching the house, and Cooter seemed to be taking his time to reach them, revealing his reluctance.

Eventually, though, the four friends were gathered on Daniel’s doorstep, but nobody seemed to want to make the first move. Frank shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Won’t your Dad-

“He isn’t home,” Daniel murmured, looking at the door nervously. Frank nodded, immediately falling silent. Well. There went his main argument against this. Damien put a hand on Daniel’s arm.

“Maybe it’s best that you go. We don’t want him to get a-

“No. I wanna be here. C’mon,” Daniel mumbled, shoving his key into the door and letting himself in. The other guys looked to each other, then followed  behind him wordlessly, their heads bowed, their hands shoved into their pockets in matching images of solemnity.

For a while, nothing happened. They walked into the house and just stood in the hallway silently. Frank wasn’t sure exactly what he’d been expecting. An immediate showdown would have been less surprising than the eerie silence of the house. It didn’t even seem like there was anyone home – there was no TV playing, no sound at all. For one, blissful moment, Frank thought that maybe he was off the hook. They’d come to do their thing, and the guy wasn’t home. They’d have to try again later – when they were all more prepared. For one, blissful moment, that really seemed possible.   
And then, footsteps.

Frank hadn’t ever met Daniel’s older brother. The kid hadn’t ever been there if they hung out at his place, and he’d been at college. So, for that reason, he had no idea what he looked like. He supposed, with looking at Daniel, that his brother would be similar – slim, short, mousy.  
But God, he was wrong.

The footsteps stopped suddenly at the bottom of the stairs, and as Frank looked up, he was met, face to face, with Daniel’s older brother.

“Hi Shaun,” Daniel sad faintly. The older brother replied with a confused sounding grunt, one bushy eyebrow raising.

Shaun was built like a brick wall. He was tall, squared, and so large that he almost blocked out the light from the fixture above their heads. His hair was the same soft brown as Daniel’s, but far shorter and spiked, making him look rather like a disgruntled hedgehog. His jaw jutted out slightly in an under-bite, giving him the appearance of a large, humanoid bulldog.   
Frank wasn’t intimidated, despite all of that. Anyone who looked like that, and targeted their rage on someone as meek as Daniel, was surely not worth anyone’s time.   
To absolutely nobody’s surprise, Cooter spoke first.

“Hey, kid, our friend here told us you’ve been talkin’ shit,” he said confidently, chest already puffed out defensively. Shaun looked momentarily confused, eyes flickering between Daniel and Cooter, before resting on the former.

“What’s going on, Dandy?” Shaun mumbled, his eyes narrowing slightly. Daniel blanched for a second, then seemed to find courage and stood a little taller.

“They know. They know that you’ve been hittin’ me and…uh-

“And we’re here to tell you to back the fuck off,” Frank interjected, surprising even himself with his bravery. He swallowed when Shaun’s eyes fell on him, but he persisted.   
“You’re his older brother, you coward. You’re supposed to take care of him, not beat him up.”

Shaun looked taken aback, the first sparks of anger blooming in his dead-looking irises. Cooter nodded in agreement, clapping  a hand on Daniel’s shoulder.

“Just ‘cause this kid here’s got more friends than you’ll ever have,  doesn’t mean you gotta pick on him. Cause here’s the thing – those friends are gonna come kick your ass if you touch him – or even _look_ at him wrong – again,” he said firmly.

Shaun’s eyes skipped from person to person manically, his panic seeming to grow with each twitch of his eyelids.   
Finally, with an aggravated hiss, he brought his hand back to hit his brother.

In the moment that followed, where there should have been a thud, there was a soft grunt – but it didn’t come from Daniel.   
When Frank looked up, he saw Damien – reacting for the first time since the encounter began – holding Shaun’s arm in a vice-like grip, his eyes burning with rage. The elder brother was actually cowering before him, which was amusing, seeing as Damien was as quiet as a summer’s breeze, and  only slightly taller than him. Nonetheless, by the time Damien shoved him away, Shaun looked well and truly defeated.

“Don’t touch my friend again, or we’ll be back,” Damien said in a clipped tone. He turned to Daniel, his eyes softening a little.  
“You can stay with me for tonight,” he offered. He didn’t give him the chance to decline, though, and in an instant was walking back to the car.

The three remaining friends looked at each other bemusedly, before following behind, not sparing so much as a glance towards Daniel’s brother.   


Once everyone calmed down and had a chance to talk about the evening’s events, Damien did the rounds of dropping people off at their houses. Frank didn’t end up home until far later than he’d expected – but it didn’t matter either way. He laid in bed, staring up at the blank canvas of his ceiling, hoping to see some Rorschach test paint splatters crash onto the plaster, giving him all the answers he’d needed. Weirdly, he’d found some disturbing parallel with the evening’s events and his own situation. Gerard was weak, and vulnerable. Blindly following his faith without need for reason or question, only to have his balance thrown by one, careless boy. Frank already knew of the confusing, tremulous storms that brewed in Gerard’s mind – they brewed in his own, too. As Frank lay there in the dead silence of the night, his mind was ablaze with a sudden clarity. For all his hurt and offence, he couldn’t deny that he’d had some hand in the breakdown of his love affair. Gerard had been scared – he’d felt sick with fear and guilt at the act he’d committed. It was an act of love, but what is love compared to wrath, and sin? While the fire of lust and love was burning through Frank, Gerard could feel the harsh lick of damnation at every touch of Frank’s fingertips.  
Frank could never understand how that felt – but he knew what he had to do.    


Frank wasn’t good at admitting when he was wrong. He was like a bull, hot-blooded and stubborn to a fault. Still, he liked to think that he was also very self-aware. He could, occasionally, put his pride aside when it came to things – and people – he cared about. That’s why, the next evening, Frank found himself on Gerard’s doorstep.   
It’d been three weeks since they’d last spoken; almost a month without Gerard’s laugh, or the twinkle in his eye, or the slight slump when he walked heavily on his one good leg. Frank’s heart was pounding in the base of his throat, and his hand felt like lead as he reached up to slam it against the door. Gerard was home – Frank could smell the strong waft of coffee even from outside. At the very least, he thought he could.

Frank had no idea how long he’d been standing outside, but by the gentle bite of cold at his fingertips, he could imagine it was a while. The soft, natural patches in the wooden door seemed so familiar to him now, like he could recite them.   
He never made the active decision to knock. Suddenly, his hand was pounding against the door, the sound echoing like the cascade of the first rocks of an avalanche.

After some shuffling and a soft creak, the door swung open, revealing Gerard, bathed in the light of the setting sun. To Frank’s irritation, the Priest didn’t look surprised to see him – if anything, he seemed amused.

“Frank. Hello. How have you been?” Gerard asked, his voice soft. He didn’t seem to be upset at all – quite the contrary. The gentle, serene look in Gerard’s eyes almost completely mirrored that which had been on his face when he and Frank had first met. It was an almost uncanny resemblance that made Frank more than a little uncomfortable. It was like he’d made everything up – every moment they’d spent together only existing in the confines of his mind.   
There was something, though, in his eyes. Behind the divinity, there was a glimmer of something that was entirely un-Priest-like. It was a sort of fiery burning, casting flames onto the bright hazel rings. Frank couldn’t decide if it was passion or anger, and at that moment he didn’t care. No matter what, Gerard _did_ still feel it. He still felt something.

Frank gave the Priest a polite smile – though his face felt like it was falling more into a grimace.

“I’ve been well, thank you. And you?”

“Yeah. I’ve been very good,” Gerard said, his voice still airy. It was difficult now, to see Gerard the way he’d been that night. Overcome in lust and love, and sweat and grit. His fingertips grabbing the wall, Frank’s nails biting his hips. He wondered if he still had marks from it. He wondered if Gerard had tried to scrub Frank’s touch away from his body, or if he’d lay down and let himself feel it first.   
Gerard’s eyes weren’t betraying  a thing, but Frank knew he was an open book.

After a moment of silence, Gerard spoke again:

“Would you like to come in for some tea, Frank?”

Frank was half inclined to say no.  He knew he wasn’t going to get what he came for. Not today. The only reason he said yes, was because of the feeling in his chest when he thought about walking away. Gerard was warm, and safe, and his. Even now, he was the summer sky in the middle of Frank’s blizzard, and he needed him. He could tell that Gerard wasn’t going to let him have him, but that didn’t make him need him any less.

“I’d love to,”

His voice came out hoarse, and for a moment, he thought he saw Gerard’s eyes soften.   
It was only for a moment, though.  Gerard was good at keeping composed, even now.   


The scene was familiar enough. The two men sat in the living room, both with untouched cups of coffee. They didn’t look at each other, but both men could feel every inch of the other, even without touching him.   
Frank didn’t think about everything that had happened here. He didn’t think about the kisses, or the touches, or the private jokes. He didn’t let himself remember the times they’d fallen asleep on the sofa together, and would wake up entwined with each other.

Neither wanted to be the first to speak, but the longer Frank sat there, the more he could feel his heart breaking. The relationship seemed broken at best, so what did he have to lose?

“Gerard, look-“

“You don’t have to say anything,” Gerard mumbled, eyebrows furrowing. His voice was thick, choked in his throat. He was wearing a grey sweater and jeans, but he may as well have been wearing his full Priest robes. There wasn’t an inch of him that held any of his usual warmth.

“Yes I do. And you have to listen to me. You don’t have to…argue, or agree. Just _listen_ ,”

“I don’t want to listen,” Gerard breathed.

“You’re going to. Because I’m…Jesus. I’m trying to apologise, okay? So listen to me. If you love me, then listen,”

“I-“

Frank cut him off. He didn’t know what Gerard was going to say, but even the possibility that he was going to tell him that he didn’t love him was too much to handle. He smiled softly and took his hand.

“If you have ever loved me. Please listen to me,” he whispered. Gerard’s eyes softened. He seemed to be considering, for a moment, but then he nodded. Frank kissed his hand, relieved when the older man didn’t pull away.

Frank took a moment to steel himself. He felt like the weight of the whole world was resting on his chest. He took a breath, and tried to smile.

“I’m sorry. What happened at the gig…I fucked up. I felt so much, being with you. I felt…joy, and love, and lust, and everything all at once. I felt more connected to you than I ever had before. You were everything, in that one moment. And then it was over and you were mad at me…and Gee, babe, it broke my heart, you know?” he sniffed, swallowing hard. He wouldn’t cry. Not until he was done.   
“It broke my heart. And I got scared. But I shouldn’t have left you there. My baby, you were so…vulnerable. So weak. You needed me to stay with you, and protect you, and tell you everything was going to be okay. You begged me not to leave, but I left anyway.” He took another deep breath

“I said I’d never forgive you – but there’s nothing to forgive. I’m sorry, Gerard. I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, so much. I’ve missed you like hell. Please, forgive me. I was an idiot, and I don’t deserve your love – but I’m asking for it. I’m so sorry, my angel,” he whispered, his voice becoming tight and choked at the end.

Gerard was clearly affected by his words – that much was clear. The priest sat with his hands clasped in his lap, eyebrows furrowed. He seemed troubled, but Frank was just happy for the expression change on his face. Anything was better than that cool, impassive mask.  
He didn’t speak for a while. Gerard just stared at the floor, as if he could find the answers he needed in the cracks in the floorboards.

Eventually he looked up. Frank couldn’t tell, for a moment, what was going to happen – but then Gerard smiled, and he knew it was over.

The smile was weak, and wrought with emotions, but Frank could tell that it was the best Gerard could do right now, in terms of pretending that he didn’t care. The Priest stood up, and gestured simply to the door

“Thank you for saying so, Frank. That means a lot to me. I’m glad we can put this behind us,” he said coolly. Frank’s heart slammed against his chest, panic rising in his throat.  He grabbed Gerard’s wrist, against his better judgement.

“No, Gee. Babe, don’t-“

“I’ll see you soon,” Gerard murmured. It seemed as though something was breaking beneath the surface, but for now, he seemed composed. Frank’s lips trembled.

“Gerard, please. Please, I love you,” he whispered, clutching his hand. Gerard nodded.

“I…” he, momentarily, seemed a little troubled, “I know you do.”

Frank fell silent. There was a moment that passed in the blink of an eye, where the world seemed to stop. The two were looking into each other’s eyes, and something seemed to pass between them – a heavy, cumbersome, and tangible presence of light, and love; and something much darker. Frank couldn’t tell if this was the end of them, but it was the end of _something_.

Frank made his way to the door. Somehow, his legs held him up pretty firmly, even though he felt like falling apart. He reached the door and turned back, his eyes soft.

“I love you,” he whispered. Gerard sighed, seeming to age just from that one movement. God, he looked exhausted.   
The Priest cupped Frank’s cheek.

“I love you too. But you have to go,” he whispered. Frank closed his eyes. He let himself bask in the warmth of his lover’s touch, before nodding, and silently leaving the house for what could have been the last time.


	19. Chapter 19

Gerard considered himself very self-aware. He personally thought that was what made him such a good Priest – he knew what he believed in, knew what he doubted, and he could apply that to his sermons. Not a word passed his lips that he didn’t truly believe in, for the most part. Of course, of recent, there had been one or two exceptions to that rule – and all of them had to do with his situation involving Frank.   
He didn’t use the term ‘relationship’ for the moment. As well as being technically incorrect (he had, after all, just broken up with the boy), it didn’t feel right. He had never truly given himself to Frank in the way you should when you’re in a relationship. A part of him had always been tied to the Church and, as much as he might deny it, a part of him was tied to his brother, too.

It’d been years since Mikey died. The metal contraption wrapped around the lower part of his leg was a constant, painful reminder of every step he took into the world without his favourite companion by his side. With each sharp incision the cheap metal cut into his skin, he was reminded of the thousands of smiles he’d never see again.  
If there was a Heaven, and if anyone could get into it, it would be Mikey. For each breath of sinful intention he gasped, he exhaled a beautiful purity that could put a Saint to shame. Even that soldier, who Gerard thought he should blame for his brother’s death, had a special place in his heart. Perhaps, though, that was an opinion only formed now that he had his own version of their love story.   
Frank. Frank was…different. That much had been clear to him from the beginning. He’d been expecting an aggressive, ill-mannered punk with little regard or remorse for anyone but himself. Instead, he’d been delivered a person made from liquid gold, whose brilliance ran through the fault-lines in his own foundations, and made him shine the brightest he ever could. The relationship was tremulous, sure, but Gerard couldn’t pretend to think that that was entirely Frank’s fault. He was aware that his own insecurities got in the way of their potential happiness. His absolute devotion, his obsession, even, to the idea of purity. As abstract an idea as it might be, be found himself chasing it relentlessly – and for what cause? He already knew that he was probably the only member of his church who actually felt a glimmer of that fabled ‘Catholic guilt’. He hadn’t been entirely truthful to Frank before. Yes, the other Priests were embezzling funds and stealing from donations – but it went so much deeper than that.   
Gerard couldn’t say too much about it. Being kicked out of the Church would be the least of his problems if he made too much of a fuss about what was going on – but he knew he hadn’t been the only one to break their celibacy oath.  
That’s what truly bothered him about all this. That was why he couldn’t allow himself to be with Frank. He couldn’t be a part of that hypocrisy. He couldn’t.

When Gerard awoke that Sunday, he felt different. Not bad, necessarily, but he’d been better. There was feeling, like a tugging at the back of his mind, only growing stronger as he became more conscious. By the time he was awake and upright, his mind was practically screaming with the shrill cry of alarms. There was something that needed his attention - that much was for sure. But what?   
At that point, Gerard made the first mistake of his day: he ignored it. He was a busy man, after all, and if it was truly important, then the thought would surely surface once he’d done some tasks to clear his mind.

The mornings – even Sunday mornings – weren’t a special occasion for Gerard. While Frank had been helping him at the church, he’d always rise a little earlier to make sure he looked good (a fact that he only very reluctantly, and grimly admitted to), but now there was no such pressure. He got to the Church earlier than he had in weeks, and was – for the most part – in a very jovial mood. He struggled a little doing the morning’s tasks, but he was used to it. Having Frank around to help him out had been convenient, but he could manage.

That was mistake number two. He’d already told himself that thinking about Frank was practically forbidden. It was a sin by its own merit. He tried to go about his morning as normal – placing Bibles into pews, cleaning and dusting, setting up his sheets – but he knew something was missing.

“C’mon, Gee-“ he murmured to himself, eyebrows furrowing softly. He paused in the middle of the Church – his Church – and glanced up at the broken window. He still didn’t have enough to fix it, but he was getting close. He’d contacted someone to take a look at it, but if he was honest, he almost didn’t want it to be fixed. That broken window meant something to him – it was the moment Frank had smashed into his life and changed everything. Like the jagged hole through the window, Frank had torn open Gerard’s faith, and everything he knew, but somehow made it  more beautiful to him. How could he believe in something that told him that his love was wrong? How could he blindly follow a path that made him miserable?

Gerard sat down in one of the pews, running a hand through his hair. His mind flashed to the last time he’d seen Frank, and he felt a burning ache in his chest. He’d only had a couple of days to think about what had happened when Frank had tried to apologise. At the time, the answer had seemed so clear to him. Frank had hurt him – he’d abandoned him when he needed him the most. Gerard had felt everything he’d built up crumbling away in front of him, and Frank just left him on the bathroom floor. Surely, then, Frank was to blame?   
Gerard sighed, putting his face in his hands. He knew that was rarely the case.  Sure, Frank had left. But Gerard had said some horrible things. He’d told him that what they’d done disgusted him, that the burning love they were sharing was wrong. He saw the pain in Frank’s eyes, but he couldn’t do anything to reassure him. It was like they were both so clouded with their own pain, that they couldn’t help each other. The only difference, though, was that Frank had apologised.

The Priest stood up, grabbing his walking stick as he made his way to the vestry to change.   
He had an idea and, if it worked – he might just be able to make things right.

 

Frank’s Mother always went to Church on Sundays. When he and Frank had been avoiding each other, it was the only reassurance to Gerard that the whole thing had truly happened. This woman was his proof that his love was real – and this time, she might be the key to fixing it.   
To Gerard’s absolute delight, Frank’s Father also arrived with his wife. He came less often, but for this week, it was very convenient that he decided to come along.  
Gerard knew he could probably have just turned up to Frank’s house – but he doubted the boy would see him. He knew now that his own behaviour had been short of fair, and certainly no way to treat someone you loved.   
It was then, of course, that Gerard embarked on mistake number three.

Gerard was always tired after giving a sermon. His back ached from not using his stick, his throat hurt, and since he often had to get up very early to prepare, talking to every single person in the town wasn’t exactly what he wanted. Not to mention, that he often had to take confession on top of that. He knew it was a sin, but sometimes he just wanted to tell them all to fuck off.   
Not today, though. Today he couldn’t wait to meet and greet everyone he could. He shook hands with glee, he promised to pray for loved ones with true conviction. By the time he reached Frank’s parents, he was practically glowing, and the smile he flashed them was truly genuine.

“Hello! Mr and Mrs Iero. It’s so nice to see you,” he grinned, shaking both their hands. As always, they both thanked and congratulated him on this week’s sermon – he barely heard them.

“So –“ Gerard began. He was almost certain he was cutting someone off.   
“So, where’s Frank this week? Not with you?” he asked, although _obviously_ Frank wasn’t there. Frank’s Mother sighed and shrugged a little

“No, unfortunately. He hasn’t been doing so well, Father,” she said sullenly. To his distaste, Gerard found his interest piqued.

“Oh? Is he all right?” he asked, trying to keep his tone impassive. Frank’s Mother sighed and waved a hand.

“Not really. He’s been…depressed, I guess. He won’t leave his room, he won’t see his friends. He seemed to be getting a little better for a while – he even rejoined his band. But a couple of days ago, he just plummeted again,” she murmured. Gerard felt a spike of guilt, but swallowed it. He held her shoulder.

“I am truly sorry to hear that. But…well. I actually wanted to talk to you about Frank –“ he glanced back.   
“Do you mind joining me in the vestry?” he asked gently. The two parents shared a look, then nodded, following Gerard into the back.  
He knew what he was doing was sneaky, and could even be considered deeply manipulative. But he needed to talk to Frank, and he knew this was a sure-fire way of getting him to speak with him.

Once alone, Gerard shut the door and smiled sweetly at the pair, who looked very nervous indeed.   
Gerard sighed.

“I didn’t want to tell you this before, because Frank was so kind in helping me out around the Church…” he began. Frank’s parents immediately stiffened.

“What did he do?” Frank’s Father asked. The Priest managed to contain his smile to a soft, polite twitch of his lips.

“I’m afraid…the broken window. That was because of Frank. He threw a brick at my window, and agreed to help me in exchange for me telling anyone. I am so sorry I did not disclose this to you sooner,”

From the look Frank’s parents exchanged, Gerard knew he had him.   


Gerard didn’t hear anything for a week and, for a while, figured nothing had happened. He had been almost certain when he saw the disappointed faces of his parents, that Frank would be hauled over to the Church to apologise later that afternoon – but nothing happened.   
Maybe that was for the best. The longer Gerard considered his plot, the more it seemed as if he really had gone over a line. After all – he’d promised not to tell, and he’d broken that promise for his own gain. If Frank found out, he’d never forgive him.   
That was what was going through his mind that Sunday, when Frank suddenly burst into the Church.

“Motherfucker,” the teenager growled. Gerard had been standing by the pulpit, going through his notes when the commotion began. Gerard glanced up, immediately going cold.

“Good mo-

“Shut the fuck up,” Frank hissed, storming up the aisle towards him. Gerard let out a faint whimper, clutching onto his walking stick. The older man swallowed, but didn’t have time to move far before Frank was upon him, blocking the exit to the pulpit.

“Fr-

“You _told them_? You told my parents? What the fuck?”

“Frank, I just-“

“ _No_. You promised me. You promised you wouldn’t tell,” he spat

“I know, but-“

“They _grounded_ me. I can’t do anything, I can’t go anywhere, and it’s all your fault. God, Gee. You made it perfectly clear you didn’t want anything to do with me, and I walked away. You asked me to leave, and I left. What do you _want_? You can’t have it both ways. I did what you asked – why couldn’t you leave me al-“

That time, it was Frank’s turn to be cut off, as Gerard grabbed him and kissed him hard. His fingers clutched the younger boy’s shirt, drawing him near as he kissed him deeply and passionately. Frank stiffened, at first, but he couldn’t deny himself for too long. Gerard’s lips were warm and safe, and he wanted them.   
Still, he was pissed. So though he kissed him back, his lips were moving roughly, his hands grasping and tugging at the Priest.   
By the time they pulled away, they were breathless.

Frank glared darkly at Gerard, who glared back.

“I hate you,” Frank hissed. Gerard smirked.

“Prove it.”

As it happened, Frank already had a good idea of exactly how he wanted to prove that. With a deep snarl, he surged forward and kissed Gerard hard, pinning him to the front of the pulpit, his hands immediately moving to his belt. Gerard moaned, a hand fisting in Frank’s hair as he held him close.  
This kiss was less rough, but more urgent. It was the clashing of teeth like lightning in a summer night sky, or the sound of fireworks erupting too soon and scorching the ground.

“I wanna fuck you” Frank breathed, throwing the belt aside and undoing Gerard’s pants.

“Do it,” he whispered

“Are you gonna be a fucking bitch about it?” Frank snarled, though his tone was softer, like he was teasing. Gerard smiled, shaking his head

“No. Are you gonna walk out on me?” he breathed. Frank’s eyes were still burning, but they seemed fonder.

“Never. C’mon,” he growled, pushing him up against the pulpit. He sunk to his knees in front of the Priest, wasting no time in pushing his underwear down to reveal his semi-hard cock. Frank immediately began to kiss his thighs, his hand rubbing over his balls – and Gerard could barely stand it.   
Literally. As Frank worshipped his crotch and thighs, Gerard’s legs began to weaken, and he had to clutch his walking stick as Frank finally wrapped his lips around Gerard’s cock.   
It’d been years since he’d had this – but it felt as good as he remembered. Frank’s tongue was, for his age, particularly skilful, sliding across his length, flicking against the sensitive tip, and driving Gerard crazy.   
The Priest moaned, grabbing his hair tightly. For once, he didn’t care about anything but this. He didn’t care about the Church, or his God, or his faith. His world was being turned upside down with every hard throb of his cock in his lover’s mouth. 

“Yes-“ Gerard whispered shakily.

Frank smiled as best he could and pulled back, grabbing something from his pocket.   
A moment later, Gerard felt something cold at his ass, and whined.

“Shhh. Just lube,” Frank mumbled, smearing the substance over Gerard’s ass. Gerard raised an eyebrow, snorting faintly.

“Did you assume we were gonna have sex, Frankie?” he chided playfully. Frank grinned, not even a hint of remorse on his face.

“Well, y’know. I hoped,” he hummed.

As he said it, Frank gently slid a finger into Gerard, making the older man let out a soft groan.

“Y-yeah-“ he whispered. Frank glanced up and smiled.

“You wanna bend over for me, honey?” he cooed. Gerard laughed

“Aren’t we hate fucking?” he smirked. Frank rolled his eyes and pulled his finger out

“We are. But that doesn’t mean I cant love-prep you,” he grinned. Gerard snorted and leaned over the pulpit, wiggling his hips playfully. Frank whistled.

“Gosh, Father. You call yourself a Preacher, yet you’re gonna tempt me like that? You sinner,” he cooed. Truth be told, Frank was pushing his luck a little – but he was happily surprised when Gerard didn’t react badly.   
The teenager shrugged, before gently sliding his finger back into Gerard, moaning at the tight squeeze.

“Ah, Jesus, Gee-

“ _Frank_ ”

“What the fuck? I’m fuckin’ you in the middle of a Church and you’re upset ‘bout me using the Lord’s name in vain?” he said incredulously. Gerard whined and rocked back onto his finger.

“Shut up. C’mon. Put another one in me,” he mumbled, cheeks blossoming with red. Frank smiled and rubbed lube on the rest of his fingers, before gently sliding the second one in.  
He could feel the stretch immediately, and so could Gerard. Even with a very small intrusion, Gerard’s body tried  to tighten, forcing the fingers out.

“Shhh. Relax. Won’t hurt so bad if you relax,” Frank mumbled, rubbing his hip. Gerard nodded, his muscles gently becoming looser.

“Kay. I’m just nervous,” he whispered. Frank smiled.

“Don’t worry. I know I’m actin’ like I wanna hurt you, but I never really would,” he murmured. Gerard nodded and pushed his hips back, mewling softly with pleasure as Frank moved his fingers in and out.   
Frank rubbed his hand over where Gerard’s leg met the prosthetic.  
“You wanna take this off?” he asked. Gerard shook his head.

“No, I’m okay,” he whispered.

They were silent after a moment, then. The only noise was the wet slide of Frank’s fingers in his lover, Gerard’s gentle gasps and moans, and their combined breathing dancing along the walls.

“Want another one,” Gerard breathed after a moment. Frank whimpered, biting his lip.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. One more, an’ then you can fuck me,” Gerard whispered. Frank sighed and nodded, pulling his fingers out a little bit so he could fit a third one in, pressing his lips together as he felt the tight stretch around his fingers.   
Gerard whined, closing his eyes as he felt the sharp pain ebb through him – but for the most part, he felt good. Even the pain, as harsh as it was, set a sort of electric spark through Gerard’s system and made it worth it. He felt like there was suddenly far too much blood in his veins, his body seeming to swell with the sensation of it.   
And then it was gone.

The more Frank moved, the more Gerard relaxed and, true to Frank’s word, the less it hurt. Gerard let out a content sigh, just letting Frank prep him.

“I think you’re ready, honey,” Frank murmured, sliding his fingers out,  
“You sure you want this?”

“Yes,” Gerard answered immediately, “yes. More than anything,”

Frank let out a soft, relieved sigh. There was a few moments, the sound of a snap, and then Frank was pressing against Gerard with bated breath.   
Gerard whimpered when he realised what was going on.

“You’re wearing a condom,” he whined. Frank laughed

“Well, yeah,”

“You didn’t last time,”

“Yes. And last time you were almost sick because I came inside you,” he pointed out. Frank leaned down and kissed his jaw, “precautions,” he murmured.

Admittedly, Gerard couldn’t argue with that. He very much wanted to feel Frank inside him, but he couldn’t promise that this was definitely going to end well.   
Ironically, though, the fact they were going what they were doing in the middle of a Church almost made things better. It seemed less like he was lying, and more like he was challenging God – and he’d always been taught to believe in himself just as much as his God.

Gerard was so wound up in his own thoughts that Frank pushing into him came as a surprise. The Priest gasped, grabbing onto the pulpit.

“Oh, shit-“ Gerard grunted, his head falling forward. Frank smirked as he moved his hips eagerly into him – fairly easily, thankfully.

“Feels good, Gee,” he whispered, grabbing his hips.

After a moment, Gerard gave a sheepish grin.

“You can be rough if you wa- _oh_ ”

He’d barely managed to finish his sentence before Frank began to pound into him, his hand grabbing at Gerard’s hair.

“You wanna be treated like a slut huh? I’ll treat you like a fuckin’ slut,”

Gerard cried out loudly, arching his back as best he could, his hand grabbing onto the pulpit. He whimpered, shoving himself back onto him. Gerard pressed his face into the wood and moaned.

“T-this is so dirty. We’re in a Church-“ he whimpered. Frank smiled, hand moving down to rub Gerard’s balls, laughing faintly when the Priest groaned in response.

“You don’t seem to mind,” he chuckled. Gerard laughed faintly

“I don’t.”

They fell almost silent after a moment, both concentrating hard. Gerard was moaning, his lips parted in a soft gasp, while Frank grunted softly, his hands holding his lover’s hips firmly. He had no idea how this would end, but he didn’t care just then. Maybe Gerard would reject him again; but he couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t think about anything but the shocks of pleasure running through him, and the soft noises escaping Gerard’s lips.

“You sound good, Gee,” he said finally. Gerard gave a breathy laugh.

“I…God, this is embarrassing, but-“

“What, baby?”

“I’m…ah. I’m almost-“

Frank smiled, biting his lip. Gerard was being fucked, and he was still adorable. More adorable, if anything.

“That’s okay, baby boy. I’m not gonna last long either,” he hummed. Frank leaned forward and wrapped a hand around Gerard’s cock, stroking him slowly.  
“C’mon, beautiful. Cum for me. Lemme feel you getting off because of me,” Frank purred into his ear.   
Gerard groaned and rolled his hips down into his touch, his body trembling.

“I… warn you. It might be – ah – quite  a lot-“

Frank laughed and tugged him close with the hand still on his hip.

“Aw babe, you say that like it’s a bad thing. C’mon, gorgeous,”  Frank purred. Gerard moaned again, biting down hard on his lip.  
He grabbed the pulpit hard, his head falling back.

“Frank, Frank, I-“ he didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he let out a high pitched whine as his legs trembled, his orgasm shaking through him. Frank held him close, still moving his hips slowly, but hesitantly. He didn’t want to push him.

Gerard peered over his shoulder and smiled warmly.   
“I’m alright. Keep going,” he whispered.

Frank didn’t need to be told twice. He let out a groan and rocked his hips forward, his hands holding Gerard firmly, yet somehow still carefully.

He didn’t even manage to tell Gerard when he was finishing. He just pressed his face between his shoulder blades, letting out a sharp whine. Gerard pushed back against him immediately, his breath short and laboured.   
And then it was over.

 

They stood like that for a few moments, their hearts beating so hard, they could feel it in every inch of their bodies. Gerard was still trembling, but Frank held him close.

“Gee? Are-“

“I’m perfect. And you’re perfect,” Gerard whispered, turning to give him a lazy smile. Frank’s heart raced, relief sweeping over him like a cool wave. He laughed and kissed his back.

“I love you,” he murmured. Gerard giggled.

“I love you more,”

“No, Gee, I mean. I love you. But we should probably get you ready for Church,” he grinned, stroking the older man’s hair. Gerard hummed and wiggled his hips back.

“In a minute. I love you.”


	20. Chapter 20

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” Gerard murmured. The pair were on Gerard’s sofa, Frank’s head in the older man’s lap. The boy sat up and smiled gently.

“By ‘this’, I assume you mean me?” he chuckled, touching the Priest’s face gently. Gerard took his hand by the wrist and kissed it, his eyes adoring and fond.

“I do. But I also mean…well. I guess I mean _me_ , as much you,” he murmured. Frank laughed softly, sitting back to stretch his legs a little.

“You? You know you, don’t you?” he giggled. Gerard rolled his eyes and nudged him affectionately.

“I assumed so, but I feel…different. Good different. I feel like I can do anything,”

“Because of me?”

“Mostly because of you, yes,” Gerard smiled. He shrugged and relaxed a little more against the pillows, “but I wouldn’t let it go to your head,” he teased.

Frank laughed and gestured to his temple.

“It already has, Father. I’m awfully prideful,” he snickered. Gerard arched an eyebrow.

“Keep talking like that, and pride isn’t the only sin you’re gonna commit in this house,” he purred, wiggling his eyebrows.   
Unfortunately, the sentence seemed _far_ sexier in his mind – which was evident by the way Frank started laughing.   
“Oh, shut up,” Gerard grumbled, looking away, “was tryin’ to be sexy.”

Frank cooed adoringly, trying to turn Gerard’s face towards him. The Priest, however, was adamant in his ignoring of the youth.   
“You _are_ sexy, baby. Real sexy. You in that little clerical collar just gets me so hot-“ Frank broke off into giggles again, much to Gerard’s dismay. The Priest huffed angrily and turned even more away from him.

“You’re teasing me. And not in a fun way,” he muttered. Frank raised his eyebrows appreciatively.

“You like teasing? In a… fun way?” He purred. Gerard shifted.

“That’s not what we’re talking about,” he mumbled, cheeks blossoming.

“No. But we could be talking about it,” Frank murmured, rubbing his hand over the Priest’s thigh.   
From the look he received from his boyfriend, the gesture was appreciated.

Since the incident in the Church, Frank and Gerard’s sex life had picked up a little – but that wasn’t saying too much, since they hadn’t been having any beforehand.   
Gerard seemed to have lost his reservations in terms of balancing his faith and his lust for Frank, in the form of not balancing them at all. He was simultaneously a Priest, who sometimes messed around with his boyfriend. It was an interesting arrangement, for both of them, but it worked. Frank spent most nights at Gerard’s, under the guise of hanging out with Mia or Cooter and – to his pleasure – with their blessing, too.

Gerard whined and kissed Frank’s jaw.   
“My love…you told me you had homework to do tonight. I don’t want to-“

“Aw c’mon, Gee. I won’t be able to do work while I’m distracted,” Frank said. Gerard arched an eyebrow and laughed softly.

“Distracted by what, Frankie? By me?” he cooed. Frank gave him a challenging look and leaned in, their lips only inches apart.

“Maybe. But don’t let it go to your head.”

“It already has, unfortunately,” Gerard hummed, stroking his hair.

“Well, damn. Guess I should leave now, then, before your head explodes,” Frank teased. Gerard whined and grabbed his hand, kissing each finger individually. The way the Priest glanced up at the boy from under his eyelashes, was enough to make Frank feel lightheaded, at best. He wasn’t used to being looked at with such passion – least of all from his boyfriend.

“I don’t want you to go,” Gerard whispered against his skin. All sense of joking was gone now, the Priest’s voice heavy, dripping with promise. Frank shivered, feeling his own breath catch in his throat.

“Then what do you want?” Frank mumbled. He could feel a blush spread across his cheeks, and saw it mirrored onto his boyfriend’s skin, the blood rushing like a swift river.

“I’ll show you,” Gerard breathed eventually.

 

       Frank had been in Gerard’s bedroom only a few times, despite the frequency with which he’d been in his house. Even on the seldom occasions he spent the night with him, Gerard would always grumble something about ‘indecency’ and set Frank up on the sofa with a blanket. To his credit, Frank never took it too personally – Gerard was still getting over his existential fear of losing his faith, and Frank respected that.   
It didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating, though.

Gerard now, though, didn’t seem too bothered about any assumed guilt he might feel about his actions. He shoved Frank onto the bed (though, most of it was Frank flopping down onto his back. The Priest was none too strong, after all) and immediately climbed atop him, kissing him hard and eagerly. Frank automatically reached down to touch the top of Gerard’s leg, tugging a little on the sock.   
The older man laughed, pulling back.

“Should I be offended that you seem more interested in my leg than me?” he teased. Frank sat up and rolled his eyes, turning them over so Gerard was on his back.   
The teenager chuckled softly.

“Only ‘cause I know you’ll bitch about your thigh bein’ sore if you fuck with it on,”

“Why do you assume we’re going to fuck?” Gerard smiled, eyes alight with amusement. His embarrassment tactic was unsuccessful, though. Frank, it seemed, wasn’t so easily shamed.

“Because you’re turned on,” Frank answered easily.

“I am _not,”_ Gerard insisted. Frank’s eyes darkened, an he moved to straddle his boyfriend. He cupped the older man’s face and smirked.

“Yes you are. Shall I tell you how I know?”

“Please do,” Gerard grumbled. He was giving off the appearance of someone very much annoyed, but the corners of his lips were twitching up very slightly in amusement.   
Frank looked at him for a moment, not unlike how a housecat might look at a mouse. His eyes radiated with hunger and heat, and Gerard could feel his pants tighten ever so slightly.

“Your eyes,” Frank murmured “they’re…blown. Almost black. Like you’re trying to take in as much of me as you can.”   
He tilted his head, running his thumb across Gerard’s bottom lip. The skin was chapped and rough against his hand.   
“Your lips are parted, and dry. You’ve been breathing deeply.”  
He slid his thumb between Gerard’s lips, and immediately the Priest began to suck. Frank barely suppressed a moan, closing his eyes.  
“Your mouth is watering for me, Father,” he murmured. He pulled his thumb back out, eliciting a whine from Gerard’s throat. The sound was so delicious to Frank that he almost slid his thumb back in, but he abstained, instead moving his hand down to just below Gerard’s jaw.   
“Your pulse is racing. Even now, I can feel it speeding up. And I wonder…”  
Frank gently wrapped his fingers around the older man’s throat. He felt, rather than heard, his breath catch, and smiled mischievously.   
“You want me to choke you, Gerard?”

“Yes,” the Priest answered dutifully.  
The answer certainly came as a shock to Frank, who had only said it to tease. But nonetheless, he was pleased. The teenager pressed a little harder, watching as his lover’s back arched, a soft gasp slipping through his parted lips.

“Do you belong to me, Gerard?”

“Yes.”

“Only me?” He questioned.   
That time, Gerard paused, and Frank wondered if he’d gone too far. He didn’t want to make Gerard’s crisis any worse than it already was.   
After a moment, the older man spoke again.

“Right now, I am yours,” he replied. Frank couldn’t argue with that, so nodded.

“And what do you want in return? You are giving me your body, and your heart. What do you need from me?”  
The words were oddly ritualistic, but it seemed sort of fitting, all things considering. And, of course, both men were extremely aroused by it.

“I…I only-“ he blushed, looking away. Despite the intensity of the situation, Frank felt his heart melt at the sight. He tilted Gerard’s chin up so they were eye to eye, the thin ring of hazel engulfed by black, shining in mirror image, like a paradoxical split in time. Somehow, Frank was staring into his own eyes, seeing his own need reflected back to him.

“Speak,” Frank whispered. Somehow he knew it was the right thing to say. In his chest, that same hurricane he’d felt the first time he met Gerard was stirring once more. The circlet of air and water raging tremulously below his ribcage was tugging at his mind, spitting out words and rhetoric that he had never considered.   
Gerard, at least, looked surprised.

 “I only want to please you,” he whispered at last.   
That was, apparently, all Frank needed to hear.

 

            “Say my name,” Frank growled, hovering over the Priest. Gerard swallowed hard, arching his back.

 “Frank. Frank. My love, my life, my master. Frank,” he breathed.   
The teenager smirked, satisfied, and looked down at the man properly.   
Frank had, in only about fifteen minutes, managed to completely strip Gerard, save for his black shirt and clerical collar. The shirt was unbuttoned, except for at his throat, and his chest was exposed. The wide expanse of smooth, pale flesh lay in front of Frank, inviting him, seducing him.

 In a moment of bravery, Gerard had agreed to being tied up. It was a fantasy of his, of course, but he’d never really done it. Not like this.   
The bindings weren’t particularly restraining – just an old t-shirt looped around Gerard’s wrists and the headboard.  
Still, it was enough. Gerard was trembling with excitement and trepidation, his body already glowing with a thin sheen of sweat.

 “Do you feel okay?” Frank whispered, running a hand over his thigh. Gerard considered for a moment, wiggling a little on the bed, before nodding.

 “Yes. I’m… nervous. But I’m happy,” he assured him. Frank nodded and moved to kneel between his legs, rubbing over his thigh again, making sure his fingers didn’t fall too close to the raw skin around where his knee would have been.

 “You look so hot,” Frank whispered, leaning down to kiss his abdomen. Gerard shivered under his lips, letting out a soft whine.   
The older man smiled, shaking his head.

 “You’re going to Hell, kiddo,” he teased. Frank moved up close to him, pressing their foreheads together. His eyes were black ice, sending burning shivers through Gerard’s veins.

 “See you there, Father,” he growled, kissing him hard. Gerard moaned, leaning into the touch, gasping when Frank grabbed a handful of his hair.

After a moment, though, Frank pulled back and looked at him warily.   
“Uh…that was… that was okay, right? I didn’t mean to-“

 Gerard grinned and leaned as far forward as he could.   
“It was fine. You’re…you’re fine. Please just kiss me,” he murmured.   
Frank would have liked to hesitate, but he couldn’t. Not now. Not when his boyfriend was so open, so irresistible. This was all he’d been thinking about since he’d met Gerard, and now it was happening.

 “I can do that. I can kiss you,” Frank mumbled, before doing just that.

 

            Prepping Gerard always took time – and for that, Frank was eternally grateful. Somehow, no amount of fingering, or ‘just the tip’ fucking could do anything to stop his boyfriend’s ass from snapping right back to virgin tightness by the time they next slept together.   
It was nothing short of a blessing. Gerard, funnily enough, got a little frustrated at how long it took. He didn’t have much patience for foreplay – he wanted action. Sex for Gerard was fast, and wild, and desperate. But Frank liked just feeling him.

 With Gerard tied up, and so unable to shove Frank away when he got bored, Frank could really explore his boyfriend’s body in any way he wanted to. On this occasion, that presented itself in the form of slowly licking into his ass.   
Frank’s hands were braced on Gerard’s thighs, feeling the thick flesh against his fingers. He could feel every tremble, every twitch of the older man’s hips as he reacted to the slow, yet eager movements of Frank’s mouth against him.   
As much as Gerard pretended to be impatient, his body told a different story.   
His cheeks were flushed, his cheekbones highlighted with blotches of red, and his eyes watered. It looked almost like he was crying, all except for the soft smile that graced his lips.   
Gerard’s hands were fisted tightly in the sheets, and – most notably of all – his cock leaked where it lay on his stomach, dampening the thin smattering of pubic hair that lay there.

 “Frankie _please,”_ Gerard whined, arching his back. Frank glanced up, his lips glistening with saliva.

 “Please what, Father?” he cooed. Gerard shivered, casting Frank a sharp look.

 “I need you inside me,” he groaned. Frank bit his lip, easily sliding two of his fingers into him. It hadn’t been easy to get Gerard to that point, but after alternating eating him out with light fingering, the Priest’s body barely resisted.

 “Like this?”

 “No. No, I need more,”

 “You need three fingers?” Frank taunted. Gerard groaned and bucked up.

 “I need your _cock_ , Frank,” he snapped.   
Frank was genuinely taken aback. He raised his eyebrows, jaw dropping a little.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. Gerard swore around Frank, and often. But even so, it was rare for Frank to see the Priest being so _crude._

“Shit. You want it? It’s…it’s fucking yours,” Frank panted.

 In a moment, their roles were reversed. Gerard had a look of power in his eyes, like lightening, like pure electricity was pounding through him.   
Frank was flustered. Gerard had swept his breath away, and he was scrambling to get it back.   
The younger man moved to the floor, grabbing a condom out of his wallet, before returning to the bed.   
Gerard groaned.

 “I don’t want one. C’mon. Just fuck me bare,” Gerard whined. Frank shook his head, though reluctantly. There was nothing he wanted more than to fuck Gerard without a condom – to feel his smooth warmth all over him. But he wouldn’t risk it. Especially not now that they were trying something a little more daring.

 “Not today. But I will. I promise,” he murmured, rolling the condom onto himself.   
Gerard was clearly a little disappointed, but didn’t speak again. Ultimately, he knew Frank was right.   
He hated it, but Frank was right.

 Gerard barely had time to complain, before Frank was pushing into him. The younger boy gave a faint gasp, head falling back.  
“You’re always so tight, Gee. Jesus Christ,” he whispered. Gerard laughed tersely, giving an experimental wiggle of his hips.

 “Feels…”

 “Good?”

 “Feels like a lot. But I like it. I…love it. And you,” he murmured, a blush sweeping across his cheeks. Frank laughed.

 “You’re adorable,” he cooed, leaning forward and kissing his shoulder. Gerard whined and tugged a little at his restraints.

 “I wish I could touch you,” he whispered, looking up at his boyfriend with dark, lustful eyes. Frank shrugged, grinning as he began to rock his hips.

 “Well, you can’t. I’m in charge, baby,” he smirked. Gerard whined and bit his lip, head falling back.

 “Ah. Remind me why we don’t do this more?” he muttered, pushing his hips up to meet Frank’s thrusts. The boy smiled, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s lips.

“I dunno. Some religious crap,” he giggled.

 

            Frank wasn’t the most patient person in the world at the best of times – but when it came to fucking his boyfriend, he was even less so. It didn’t take long before he was moving his hips hard and fast, his nails biting into the soft flesh of Gerard’s thighs.   
The Priest wasn’t complaining in the least. He had one leg wrapped tightly around Frank’s hips, bucking up hard, trying to take as much of Frank as he could. Gerard barely resembled himself – his lips were parted eagerly, his eyes rolling back in his head. His hands gripped tightly at his restraints, using them as leverage to fuck himself up against Frank

 “Yes, yeah, oh fuck, fuck, _fuck me_ ,” Gerard gasped breathlessly, pressing his lips together. Frank couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He’d never seen the bottom of the ocean, or the delicate swirls of galaxies in the night sky, but he couldn’t imagine they could be any more beautiful than Gerard was at that moment. There was something so ironically sinful about the collar wrapped around his neck, just below his expression of pure desire, that Frank could barely contain himself.

 “You’re so fucking hot, Gee. You know that? You drive me fucking crazy,” Frank panted, leaning down to lick along Gerard’s chest. The older man trembled beneath him.

 “Y-you feel so good. Oh my God. You feel so damn good. I want you so badly,” he whispered, gripping Frank’s arms. The younger boy smirked.

 “You’ve got me, sweetheart,”

 “T-touch me. Please touch me, I’m going crazy,”

 “Do you deserve it?” Frank purred, leaning close, their lips almost touching. Gerard let out a whine, bucking his hips hard. He tugged hard on his restraints again, but he didn’t seem to be trying to escape.

 “Yes. Yes, I deserve it,” he panted.

 “Are you sure, Father? Your holiness? You’re sure you’re good enough?” he hummed, almost mockingly. Gerard’s whole body surged upwards, a soft cry of pleasure escaping his parted lips.

 “Yes, Frank. Oh God, you’re so cruel to me,” he groaned. By the way his lips twitched upwards, he didn’t seem to mind too much. Frank smacked his thigh, surprised by the eager grunt that emerged from his boyfriend.

 “You like it rough, pretty baby?” he murmured, licking along his jaw. Gerard whimpered, thrusting his hips up erratically. He seemed almost unable to comprehend what was happening, drowning in the swell and surge of pleasure through his veins.

 “Fuck me, G-God, fuck me,” he panted, hands clutching at his restraints. His eyes were closed, and a blissful expression was painted across his features. Frank smiled.

 “Fuck. I didn’t realise you were such a slut, Father,” he cooed, slamming his hips in hard, slapping Gerard’s thigh a little harder. He was rewarded with a soft cry, Gerard’s eyes squeezing shut.

 “I can’t, I cant-“ he chanted. Frank chuckled, amused.

 “Mmm?”

 “I can’t. Please. I need to cum. Oh God, I need to cum. Please, darling,” he whispered. Frank hummed, dragging his thumb across Gerard’s lips.

 “No. I’m going to cum inside you. And then I’m going to watch you touch yourself,” Frank murmured, kissing him gently. Gerard whined in protest, but didn’t speak against it.

 Frank fell silent then, his brows furrowing as he focused. His hips moved faster, deeper into Gerard. He felt the older man beneath him twitch eagerly, and knew he really wasn’t far off his climax.   
Luckily, Frank was close too. He could feel his heart race, every inch of his body thrumming in time with the fluttering in his chest. His body throbbed with desire, with need. Pleasure coursed through him like electricity, setting his nerves alight.   
He felt wild. The noises that slipped through his lips were certainly animalistic, and his movements were even more so. He lost all sense of rhythm and pulse, and just followed the raw energy that pulsed through him.   
When he came, he barely had time to pull out of his boyfriend. As soon as he felt the first twitch of his cock, he withdrew and took off his condom, managing to cover Gerard’s chest and face with ropes of his cum.

 The Priest whined, wriggling beneath him as he felt the liquid hit him.   
“F-Frankie-“ he whispered, eyes dark.  
The young boy let out a shiver, hunching over as he finished, his body trembling. He looked up with a crooked smile.

“T-touch yourself,” he croaked, leaning up and tugging Gerard’s hands free.  
Gerard didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as he was freed, he dropped his hand, stroking himself quickly. Frank sat back, chuckling faintly.

“Eager, huh?” he smirked. Gerard nodded, biting his lip as he tilted his head back.

“Oh God, you made me feel so good, baby. Stretched my ass out…” he was whispering, his words barely formed, but Frank felt a throb of pleasure at them regardless. 

“Show me. Show me how good I made you feel,” Frank whispered, stroking along the soft insides of Gerard’s thigh.

“I wanna see how much you’ve been holding back,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to his hip.

It had been Gerard’s intention to hold back a little, to put on a show for his boyfriend. But in the end, he couldn’t do it. His orgasm hit him hard and suddenly. He couldn’t even form the words to warn Frank as he felt the wave of throbbing pleasure sweep over him, cum shooting out of his cock. Vaguely, through the midst of his pleasure, he felt it hit his face, but he didn’t care. He was wracked with tremors, his whole form ablaze.

And then it was done.  
The older man looked up at Frank with wide, hungry eyes. Frank lay next to him and stroked his hair.

“Was that okay? Cumming on you like that? I thought-

He was interrupted with an eager kiss, Gerard’s lips firm against his own.   
When they parted, both men were grinning and breathless.

“It was perfect,” Gerard whispered, pressing a kiss to the end of Frank’s nose. The younger man smiled warmly.

“Not too much?”

“No,” he murmured. Gerard pulled Frank close, entangling his legs with his boyfriend’s. Frank smiled and kissed his forehead.   
For a moment, the pair were silent, before Gerard spoke up:  
“Maybe next time we can do it without a condom?” 

“Maybe.”


End file.
